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7859  MELROSE  AVENUE 
HOLLYWOOD,  CALIF. 


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[See  page  234 


HE    EXPERIENCED    A     RUDE    AWAKENING 


MANY  KINGDOMS 


BY 

E  LI ZAB  ETH     JORDAN 

AUTHOR  OF 

"MAY  IVERSON  — IIEK  BOOK" 

"  TALES  OF  THE  CLOISTER  " 

"TALES  OK  DESTINY  " 

ETC.      ETC. 


..."  The  state  of  man. 
Like  to  a  little  kingdom,  suffers  then 
The  nature  of  an  insurrection." 

— SHAKESPEARE. 


NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS   PUBLISHERS 

MCMVI  I  I 


Copyright,  1908,  by    HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 
Copyright,  1904,  1908,  by  THE  RIDGWAY  COMPANY,  New  York. 

Copyright,  1908,  by  THB  CENTURY  Co. 
Copyright,  1904,  1908,  by  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 

All  rights  reserved. 
Published  October,  1908. 


TO 
THOSE    AT    JORJALMA 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  VARICK'S  LADY  o'  DREAMS 3 

II.  THE  EXORCISM  OF  LILY  BELL 31 

III.  HER  LAST  DAY 62 

IV.  THE  SIMPLE  LIFE  OF  GENEVIEVE  MAUD     .     .  99 

V.  His  BOY 125 

VI.  THE  COMMUNITY'S  SUNBEAM 148 

VII.  IN  MEMORY  OF  HANNAH'S  LAUGH  ....  182 

VIII.  THE  QUEST  OF  AUNT  NANCY 200 

IX.  THE  HENRY  SMITHS'  HONEYMOON  .     .     .     .  225 

X.  THE  CASE  OF  KATRINA 250 

XI.  BART  HARRINGTON,  GENIUS 285 


MANY    KINGDOMS 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

i 

VARICK'S  LADY  O'  DREAMS 

VARICK  laid  down  the  book  with  which  he 
had  beguiled  an  hour  of  the  night,  turned 
off  the  electric  light  in  the  shaded  globe  that 
hung  above  his  head,  pulled  the  sheets  a  little 
nearer  his  chin,  reversed  his  pillow  that  he 
might  rest  his  cheek  more  gratefully  on  the 
cooler  linen,  stretched,  yawned,  and  composed 
himself  to  slumber  with  an  absolutely  un- 
troubled conscience. 

He  was  an  eminently  practical  and  almost 
rudely  healthy  young  man,  with  an  unreflect- 
ing belief  in  the  existence  of  things  he  had  seen, 
and  considerable  doubt  concerning  those  which 
he  had  not  seen.  In  his  heart  he  regarded  senti- 
ment as  the  expression  of  a  flabby  nature  in  a 
feeble  body.  Once  or  twice  he  had  casually  re- 

3 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

marked  to  his  intimates  that  he  supposed  he'd 
fall  in  love  some  time — other  chaps  did;  and 
he  had,  also,  in  an  unusually  candid  moment, 
given  to  a  choice  company  of  his  chums  the 
benefit  of  his  conviction  that  when  a  fellow 
did  care  for  a  woman,  and  got  her,  he  ought  to 
treat  her  properly,  by  George!  and  see  that  she 
had  amusements  and  was  not  neglected  as  lots 
of  'em  did  neglect  their  wives.  His  friends  had 
dropped  all  other  interests  of  the  moment  to 
solicitously  inquire  the  name  of  the  celestial 
being  who  was  inspiring  these  uplifting  theories. 
Varick  had  first  flouted  the  idea  with  a  laugh, 
and  then  carefully  explained  that  while  women 
collectively  were  "all  right,"  as  individuals  he 
had  "no  use  for  'em";  after  which  he  had 
smiled  his  own  surprisingly  seraphic  smile  and 
returned  to  the  cleaning  of  the  various  guns  on 
which  his  deepest  affections  were  then  centred. 
From  all  this  it  will  be  seen  that  Varick  was 
not  a  person  to  have  unusual  psychological  ex- 
periences. 

For  a  few  moments,  on  this  particular  night, 
his  thoughts  turned  pleasantly  from  one  to  an- 
other of  the  quiet  delights  of  the  morning's  fish- 
ing. The  book  he  had  dropped  was  Fly-Rods 
and  Fly-Tackle,  and,  like  all  enthusiastic  anglers, 

4 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

he  pined  to  give  the  author  the  benefit  of  his 
piscatorial  experiences  and  of  a  few  discoveries 
he  himself  had  made  as  to  certain  flies  and  their 
action  under  given  conditions.  He  had  fished 
all  the  morning  and  played  golf  all  the  after- 
noon, and  he  had  finished  the  day  with  a  swim 
in  the  club  pool,  subsequently  appearing  at  din- 
ner with  a  showily  red  face  and  very  wet  hair, 
to  argue  fiercely  over  the  soup  concerning  the 
merits  of  a  horse  his  cousin  wanted  him  to  buy. 
Then  he  had  played  a  few  rubbers  of  bridge  at 
five  cents  a  point,  and  had  retired  to  his  own 
rooms  bearing  some  nineteen  dollars  in  good 
American  money  reluctantly  bestowed  upon 
him  by  his  opponents  in  the  game.  Altogether 
it  had  been  a  fairly  pleasant  day,  very  much 
like  most  of  the  other  days  in  his  untroubled 
life. 

Varick  stretched  his  athletic  young  body 
luxuriously  between  the  sheets,  yawned  once 
more,  stared  into  the  semi-darkness,  heard  a 
distant  clock  strike  two,  and  wondered  mildly 
why  he  was  not  more  sleepy.  There  was  a 
dim  light  burning  in  the  hall  beyond  his  bed- 
room, and  by  its  reflection,  through  the  transom 
over  the  door,  he  could  see  quite  plainly  the 
various  pieces  of  furniture  around  him — his 

5 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

dressing-case,   with   its   array   of   silver   toilet 
articles,  the  solid  front  of  his  chiffonnier,  the 
carved   arms   of   his   favorite  lounging  -  chair, 
even   the   etchings   and   prints   on   the   walls. 
Suddenly,  as  he  looked  at  these  familiar  objects, 
a  light  haze  fell  over  them,  giving  him  for  an 
instant  the   impression  that  a  gauze   curtain 
had  been  dropped  between  them  and  his  eyes. 
They  slowly  melted  away,  and  in  their  place 
he  saw  the  streets  of  a  tiny  village  in  some 
foreign  country  which  he  did  not  know.     A 
moment  later,  in  what  seemed  at  the  time  a 
perfectly  natural  transition  from  his  bed  in  an 
Adirondack  club-house,  he  was  walking  up  the 
streets  of  the  little  town,   in  correct  tourist 
attire,  looking  in  vain  for  a  familiar  landmark, 
and  with  a  strange  sinking  of  the  heart.     How 
he  got  there,  or  why  he  was  there,  was  equally 
incomprehensible  to  him.     It  was  high  noon 
of  a  warm  summer  day,  and  the  red  roofs  of 
the  old  buildings  seemed  to  glow  in  the  heat. 
Before  him,  at  the  end  of  the  street  down  which 
he  was  walking,  was  a  public  square  where 
marketing  was  going  on  in  the  open.     It  was 
crowded  with  men  and  women  in  picturesque 
peasant  costumes  he  did  not  recognize,  though 
he  had  travelled  a  great  deal.     As  he  drew 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

nearer  he  heard  them  speaking,  but  discovered 
that  their  tongue  was  as  unknown  to  him  as 
their  garb.  He  knew  French,  German,  and 
Italian  well;  he  had,  in  addition,  a  smattering 
of  Spanish,  and  was  familiar  with  the  accents 
of  Slavic  tongues.  But  this  babel  that  met 
his  ears  was  something  new.  Taken  in  con- 
nection with  the  rest  of  the  experience,  the  dis- 
covery sent  a  cold  chill  down  the  spinal  column 
of  Mr.  Lawrence  Varick.  For  the  first  time  in 
his  debonair  life  he  was  afraid,  and  admitted 
it  inwardly,  with  a  sudden  whitening  of  the 
lips. 

"It's  so  infernally  queer,"  he  told  himself, 
uneasily.  "If  I  could  remember  how  I  got 
here,  or  if  I  knew  anything  about  the  place — " 

"Have  you  classified  them?"  asked  a  voice 
at  his  elbow.  It  was  feminine,  contralto,  and 
exquisitely  modulated.  The  words  were  Eng- 
lish, but  spoken  with  a  slight  foreign  accent. 
With  a  leap  of  the  heart  Varick  turned  and 
looked  at  the  speaker. 

She  was  young,  he  saw  at  once — twenty- 
two,  twenty-three,  possibly  twenty-four.  He 
inclined  to  the  last  theory  as  he  observed  her 
perfect  poise  and  self-possession.  She  was  ex- 
quisitely dressed;  he  realized  that  despite  the 

7 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

dimness  of  masculine  perception  on  such  points, 
and,  much  more  clearly,  saw  that  she  was 
beautiful.  She  was  small,  and  the  eyes  she 
raised  to  his  were  large  and  deeply  brown,  with 
long  black  lashes  that  matched  in  color  the 
wavy  hair  under  her  coquettish  hat.  As  he 
stared  at  her,  with  surprise,  relief,  and  ad- 
miration struggling  in  his  boyishly  handsome 
face,  she  smiled,  and  in  that  instant  the  phleg- 
matic young  man  experienced  a  new  sensation. 
His  own  white  teeth  flashed  as  he  smiled  back 
at  her.  Then  he  remembered  that  it  was  nec- 
essary to  reply  to  her  question. 

"I — I — beg  your  pardon,"  he  stammered, 
"a — a  thousand  times.  But  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I'm — I'm  horribly  confused  this  morning. 
I — I  don't  seem,  somehow,  to  place  myself  yet. 
And  I  can't  understand  what  these  people  say. 
So,  when  you  spoke  English  it  was  such  a 
relief—" 

He  stopped  suddenly  and  turned  a  rich 
crimson.  It  had  occurred  to  him  that  this  in- 
coherent statement  was  not  quite  the  one  to 
win  interest  and  admiration  from  a  strange 
and  exceedingly  attractive  woman.  What 
would  she  think  of  him  ?  Perhaps  that  he  was 
intoxicated,  or  insane.  Varick's  imagination, 

8 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

never  lively,  distinguished  itself  during  the 
next  few  seconds  by  the  stirring  possibilities 
it  presented  to  his  mind.  He  grew  redder, 
which  was  very  unfortunate,  and  shuffled 
miserably  from  one  foot  to  the  other,  until  he 
noticed  that  she  was  looking  at  him  with  a 
glance  that  was  entirely  dignified  yet  very 
friendly.  It  had  an  oddly  sympathetic  quality 
in  it  as  well.  His  spirits  rose  a  trifle. 

"You  must  think  me  an  awful  duffer,"  he 
murmured,  contritely.  "I'm  not  always  like 
this,  I  assure  you." 

"I  know,"  she  assented.  "I  understand. 
Walk  on  with  me.  Possibly  I  may  be  able  to 
help  you." 

He  bowed  assent  and  the  two  walked  toward 
the  crowded  square. 

"You're  awfully  good,"  he  said,  feeling 
reassured,  yet  still  boyish  and  embarrassed. 
"I  don't  want  to  be  a  nuisance,  but  if  you'll 
just  put  me  right,  somehow — start  me  on  a 
path  that  will  lead  me  home — " 

The  entire  idiocy  of  this  struck  him.  He 
stopped  again,  then  burst  into  his  contagious, 
youthful  laughter,  in  which  she  instantly  joined. 
The  mellow  contralto  and  the  clear  tenor  formed 
a  soft  and  pleasant  duet,  but  Varick  noticed 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

that  not  a  head  in  the  crowd  around  them 
turned  their  way,  nor  did  an  eye  of  all  the 
peasant  throng  give  them  a  glance.  He  spoke 
of  this  to  his  companion  as  they  continued 
their  walk. 

"The  most  surprising  thing  to  me  in  all  this 
— unusualness,"  he  said,  "is  the  cool  manner 
in  which  these  beggars  ignore  us.  You  know 
how  such  people  gape,  usually ;  but  not  a  soul 
among  all  these  people  seems  to  know  we're 
here." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  gentle  amusement 
and  sympathy  in  her  brown  eyes. 

"That  is  not  surprising,"  she  said,  quietly. 
"For,  you  know,  we  are  not  here — really." 

Varick  stopped  for  the  second  time  and  stared 
at  her,  with  a  repetition  of  that  new  and 
annoying  sinking  in  the  region  of  his  heart. 
Her  words  were  certainly  disconcerting,  but 
she  herself  was  delightfully  human  and  most 
reassuringly  natural.  She  had  walked  on,  and 
he  tried  to  fall  into  her  mood  as  he  overtook  her. 

"Where  are  we,  then  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  short 
and  not  especially  mirthful  laugh. 

Her  smooth  brow  wrinkled  for  a  moment. 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  said,  frankly.  "That 
is,  I  do  not  know  this  place,  where  we  think  we 

10 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

are,  though  I  have  been  here  before,  and  the 
experience  does  not  frighten  me  now.  But 
I  know  where  we  really  are.  You  are  asleep 
somewhere  in  America,  and  I  —  but  oh,  my 
dear,  my  dear,  you're  going  to  wake!" 

The  clock  that  was  somewhere  struck  three. 
Varick,  sitting  up  in  his  bed  with  eyes  staring 
into  the  darkness,  saw  again  his  familiar  room, 
the  dim  light,  the  silver,  the  dressing-case,  the 
pictures.  He  sprang  to  the  door  opening  into 
the  hall,  and  tried  it.  It  was  bolted,  as  he  had 
left  it.  So  was  the  other  door  leading  into  his 
sitting-room.  The  darkness  around  him  still 
seemed  full  of  the  refrain  of  the  words  he  had 
just  heard — where  ? 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear,  you're  going  to  wake!" 
And  her  eyes — her  smile — 

Varick  got  into  bed  again,  in  a  somewhat 
dazed  condition,  with  a  tremor  running  through 
it.  Very  slowly  he  straightened  himself  out, 
very  slowly  he  pulled  up  the  bedclothes.  Then 
he  swore  solemnly  into  the  obscurity  of  the  room. 

"Well,  of — all — the — dreams!"  he  comment- 
ed, helplessly. 

As  the  months  passed,  after  Varick  got  back 
to  town  and  into  the  whirl  of  city  life,  he  re- 
called his  dream,  frequently  at  first,  then  more 
ii 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

rarely,  and  finally  not  at  all.  It  was  almost 
a  year  later  when,  one  night,  lying  half  awake, 
he  saw  again  the  fine,  transparent,  screen-like 
veil  enshroud  the  objects  in  his  bedroom. 
It  was  winter,  and  a  great  log  was  burning  in 
the  large  fireplace.  He  had  tried  to  choke  the 
flames  with  ashes  before  he  went  to  bed,  but  the 
wood  had  blazed  up  again  and  he  had  lain 
quiet,  awaiting  slumber  and  blinking  indif- 
ferently at  the  light.  His  bedroom  over- 
looked Fifth  Avenue.  There  was  a  large  club- 
house just  opposite  his  house,  and  cabs  and 
carriages  still  came  and  went.  Varick  heard 
the  slam  of  carriage  doors,  the  click  of  horses' 
hoofs  on  the  wet  asphalt,  and  congratulated 
himself  on  the  common -sense  which  had  in- 
spired him  to  go  to  bed  at  eleven  instead  of 
joining  the  festive  throng  across  the  street. 
He  had  dutifully  spent  the  morning  in  his 
father's  offices,  and  then,  with  a  warming  sense 
of  virtue,  had  run  out  of  town  for  a  late  luncheon 
and  a  trial  of  hunters.  To-night  he  was  pleas- 
antly tired,  but  not  drowsy.  When  the  curtain 
fell  before  his  surroundings,  and  he  saw  them 
melting  imperceptibly  into  others  quite  foreign 
to  them,  he  at  once  recalled  the  similar  ex- 
perience of  the  year  before.  With  a  little 

12 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

quickening  of  his  steady  heart-beats,  he  awaited 
developments. 

Yes,  here  was  the  old  town,  with  its  red  roofs, 
its  quaint  architecture,  its  crowded,  narrow, 
picturesque  streets.  But  this  time  they  seemed 
almost  deserted,  and  the  whole  effect  of  the 
place  was  bleak  and  dreary.  The  leaves  had 
dropped  from  the  trees,  the  flowers  had  faded, 
the  vines  that  covered  the  cottage  walls  were 
brown  and  bare.  He  was  pleasantly  conscious 
of  the  warmth  of  a  sable-lined  coat  he  had 
brought  from  Russia  two  years  before.  He 
thrust  his  gloved  hands  deep  into  its  capacious 
pockets  and  walked  on,  his  eyes  turning  to 
right  and  left  as  he  went.  At  intervals  he  saw 
a  bulky  masculine  figure,  queerly  dressed,  turn 
a  corner  or  enter  a  house.  Once  or  twice  one 
came  his  way  and  passed  him,  but  no  one 
looked  at  him  or  spoke.  For  a  moment  Varick 
was  tempted  to  knock  at  one  of  the  inhospita- 
bly closed  doors  and  ask  for  information  and 
directions,  but  something — he  did  not  know 
what — restrained  him. 

When  she  appeared  it  was  as  suddenly  as 
she  had  come  before,  with  no  warning,  no  ap- 
proach. She  was  at  his  elbow — a  bewitching 
thing  of  furs  and  feminine  beauty,  French 

13 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

millinery   and   cordiality.     She   held   out   her 
small  hand  with  a  fine  camaraderie. 

"  Is  it  not  nice  ?"  she  asked  at  once.  "  I  was 
afraid  I  should  arrive  first  and  have  to  wait 
alone.  I  would  not  have  liked  that." 

He  held  her  hand  close,  looking  down  at 
her  from  his  great  height,  his  gray  eyes  shining 
into  hers. 

"Then  you  knew — you  were  coming?"  he 
asked,  slowly. 

"  Not  until  the  moment  before  I  came.  But 
when  I  saw  the  curtain  fall — " 

"You  saw  that,  too?  A  thin,  gauzy  thing, 
like  a  transparency?" 

"Yes." 

He  relapsed  into  silence  for  a  moment,  as  he 
unconsciously  adapted  his  stride  to  hers,  and 
they  walked  on  together  as  naturally  as  if  it 
were  an  every-day  occurrence. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it  all?"  he  at  length 
asked. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a  little 
foreign  gesture  which  seemed  to  him,  even 
then,  very  characteristic. 

"I  do  not  know.  It  frightened  me — a  little 
— at  first.  Now  it  does  not,  for  it  always  ends 
and  I  awake — at  home." 

14 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Where  is  that?" 

She  hesitated. 

"  I  may  not  tell  you,"  she  said,  slowly.  "  I 
do  not  quite  know  why,  but  I  may  not.  Possibly 
you  may  know  some  time.  You,  I  think,  are 
an  American." 

He  stared  hard  at  her,  his  smooth  face  taking 
on  a  strangely  solemn  expression. 

"You  mean  to  say,"  he  persisted,  "that  this 
is  all  a  dream — that  you  and  I,  instead  of  being 
here,  are  really  asleep  somewhere,  on  different 
continents?" 

She  nodded. 

"We  are  asleep,"  she  said,  "on  different  con- 
tinents, as  you  say.  Whether  we  are  dreaming 
or  whether  our  two  souls  are  taking  a  little 
excursion  through  space — oh,  who  shall  say? 
Who  can  question  the  wonderful  things  which 
happen  in  this  most  wonderful  world  ?  I  have 
ceased  to  question,  but  I  have  also  ceased  to 
fear." 

He  made  no  reply.  Somewhere,  in  the  back 
of  his  head,  lay  fear — a  very  definite,  paralyzing 
fear — that  something  was  wrong  with  him  or 
with  her  or  with  them  both.  Instead  of  being 
in  the  neutral  border-land  of  dreams,  had  he 
not  perhaps  passed  the  tragic  line  dividing  the 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

normal  mind  from  the  insane?  She  seemed 
to  read  his  thoughts,  and  her  manner  became 
more  gentle,  almost  tender. 

"Is  it  so  very  dreadful?"  she  asked,  softly. 
"We  are  together,  you  know,  my  friend. 
Would  it  not  be  worse  to  wander  about  alone  ?" 

With  a  great  effort  he  pulled  himself  together. 

"Infinitely,"  he  said,  with  gratifying  con- 
viction. "And  you're — you're  a  trump,  you 
know.  I'm  ashamed  of  acting  like  such  a 
boor.  If  you'll  bear  with  me  I'll  try  from 
now  on  to  be  more  like  a  man  and  less  like  a 
fretful  ghost." 

She  clapped  her  hands. 

"Capital!"  she  cried.  "I  knew  you  would — 
what  is  the  word?  —  oh  yes  —  adapt  yourself. 
And  it  is  only  for  a  little  while.  You  will  wake 
very  soon.  But  you  ought  to  enjoy  it  while 
it  lasts.  There  are  many  amusing  things  about 
it  all." 

Varick  reflected  grimly  that  it  was  the  "  amus- 
ing things"  which  occasioned  his  perturbation, 
but  he  kept  his  reflection  to  himself  and  smiled 
down  at  her  sunnily. 

"For  example,"  she  continued,  "as  we  really 
do  not  exist  here,  and  as  we  are  not  visible  to 
these  people,  we  cannot  do  anything  that  will 

16 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

affect  them,  in  any  way  or  attract  their  at- 
tention. Look  at  that!" 

They  were  passing  a  small  house  whose  front 
door,  opening  on  the  street,  stood  ajar.  With- 
in they  could  see  a  stout  woman  standing 
at  a  tub  and  washing  busily,  and  a  little  girl 
pouring  hot  water  from  a  quaint  kettle  into  a 
large  pan  full  of  soiled  blue  dishes.  The  pan 
stood  near  the  edge  of  a  wooden  table,  and  the 
little  girl  was  perched  on  a  stool  just  high 
enough  to  bring  her  on  a  level  with  her  work. 

''You  are,  I  am  sure,  a  fine  athlete,"  mur- 
mured the  woman.  "  Or  else  your  looks  belie 
you,"  she  added,  with  a  roguish  upward  glance. 
"Yet  with  all  your  strength  you  cannot  push 
that  pan  of  dishes  off  the  table." 

Without  a  word,  Varick  passed  through  the 
doorway,  strode  into  the  house  and  up  to  the 
table.  She  followed  him  closely.  He  attempt- 
ed to  seize  the  pan  in  his  powerful  hands — and, 
to  his  horror,  discovered  that  they  held  nothing. 
The  pan  remained  on  the  table  and  the  child 
was  now  unconcernedly  washing  the  blue  dishes, 
humming  a  little  folk-song  as  she  worked.  As 
if  to  add  to  the  irony  of  the  situation,  the  small 
laborer  quietly  lifted  the  pan  and  moved  it  to 
a  position  she  thought  more  convenient.  This 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

was  the  last  touch.  With  a  stifled  murmur  of 
intense  exasperation,  Varick  put  forth  all  his 
strength  in  a  supreme  effort.  The  pan  fell, 
the  water  and  broken  blue  dishes  covering  the 
floor.  He  sprang  back  and  stood  aghast,  gazing 
at  the  havoc  he  had  wrought. 

"Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!"  murmured  the  voice 
at  his  side.  "  I  never  dreamed  you  could  do  it, 
or  I  would  not  have  suggested  it.  Oh,  oh,  the 
poor  little  darling!" 

For  the  stout  woman  at  the  tub  had  hastily 
dropped  her  work,  crossed  the  room,  and  was 
soundly  chastising  the  unhappy  infant  who 
she  supposed  was  responsible  for  the  mischief. 
Varick  caught  her  arm. 

"Oh,  I  say,"  he  cried,  "this  won't  do  at  all! 
She  didn't  do  it;  it  was  all  my  fault.  I'll  pay 
for  the  things.  Here — here— 

He  fumbled  in  his  pockets  as  he  spoke  and 
pulled  out  several  gold  pieces.  But  the  fat 
arm  of  the  old  woman  offered  no  resistance  to 
his  grasp,  and  the  gold  pieces  did  not  exist 
for  her.  It  was  evident  that  she  saw  neither 
him  nor  them,  nor  the  woman  with  him.  With 
an  unsparing  hand  she  spanked  the  child,  whose 
voice  rose  in  shrill  lamentations.  Varick  and 
his  companion  in  guilt  crept  out  of  the  room 

18 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

with  a  sense  of  great  helplessness  upon  them, 
and  he  breathed  a  long  breath  of  relief  at  find- 
ing himself — in  bed,  with  a  cold  February  sun 
shining  in  through  his  windows,  and  the  faith- 
ful Parker  at  his  side  with  the  quieting  an- 
nouncement that  his  bath  was  ready. 

One  of  Varick's  boon  companions  in  camp 
and  hunting  excursions  was  a  distinguished 
New  York  specialist  in  nervous  diseases.  A 
day  or  two  later  Varick  found  it  convenient 
to  drop  into  this  man's  office  and,  quite  casually, 
tell  him  the  story  of  his  dreams,  giving  it 
various  light  touches  that  he  fondly  imagined 
concealed  the  anxiety  that  lay  beneath  the 
recital.  "Recurrent  dreams,"  he  then  learned, 
were  a  very  common  human  experience  and 
not  deserving  of  much  attention. 

"Don't  think  about  it,"  said  his  friend. 
"  Of  course,  if  you  worry  over  it,  you'll  be 
dreaming  it  all  the  time.  Send  this  '  personally 
conducted  tour*  to  me  if  you  don't  like  it.  I 
don't  mind  meeting  pretty  women  who  are 
'dreams,'  whether  in  the  flesh  or  out  of  it." 

As  time  went  on  and  the  dream  did  not  re- 
turn, Varick  decided  that  he  would  not  mind, 
either.  He  thought  of  her  a  great  deal;  he 
even  longed  for  her.  Eventually  he  deliberate- 

19 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

ly  tried  to  induce  the  dream  by  going  to  bed 
early,  putting  himself  in  the  proper  mental 
attitude,  as  he  conceived  it,  and  staring  wide- 
eyed  into  his  dimly  lighted  room.  But  only 
once  in  eighteen  months  was  he  even  partly 
successful.  Then  he  saw  the  haze,  saw  the 
familiar  streets,  saw  her  far,  far  ahead  of  him, 
and  hurrying  onward,  saw  her  turn  a  sharp 
corner,  caught  one  backward  look  from  her 
dear  brown  eyes  as  she  vanished — and  awoke! 
He  gave  much  thought  to  that  look  in  the 
months  which  followed.  He  was  a  modest 
youth,  singularly  unconscious  of  his  own  charms ; 
but  the  eloquent  glance  had  conveyed  to  him 
a  sense  of  longing — of  more  than  longing. 

Quite  an  interval  elapsed  before  she  came 
again.  There  was,  first  of  all,  the  inevitable 
filmy  effect,  but,  in  the  vis  on  that  succeeded 
it,  instead  of  finding  himself  in  the  little  town, 
he  was  in  the  depths  of  a  great  old  forest,  and 
in  horrible  agony.  Some  accident  had  occurred 
— he  did  not  know  what.  He  only  knew  that 
he  was  shot,  suffering,  dying!  He  groaned,  and 
even  as  he  writhed  in  a  spasm  of  pain  he  saw 
her  sitting  on  the  sward  beside  him.  He  turned 
glazed  eyes  on  her.  Her  brown  ones  looked  back 
into  his  with  a  great  love  and  pity  in  their  depths. 

20 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

"Oh,  my  dear,"  she  whispered,  "I  know  it 
seems  terribly  hard  to  you.  And  because  you 
think  you  suffer,  it  is  almost  as  hard  for  you 
as  if  you  did.  But  you  are  not  really  hurt, 
you  know.  You  are  not  suffering.  It  is  all 
in  the  dream.  You  are  sound  asleep,  far,  far 
away." 

He  forced  a  sardonic  laugh  from  his  stiff 
throat. 

"Not  this  time,"  he  managed  to  articulate. 
"Whatever  the  others  may  have  been,  this  is 
no  dream.  This  is  the  real  thing — and  death!" 

She  smoothed  the  hair  back  from  his  damp 
brow  with  a  beautiful,  caressing  touch.  He 
felt  her  fingers  tremble. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  It  is  a  dream,  and  almost 
over." 

"Then  will  you  stay  with  me,"  he  gasped, 
"to  the  end?" 

"Yes,"  she  promised.  "Try  to  bear  it  just 
a  moment  longer.  Courage,  dear  heart!  for 
already  you  are  waking — you  are  waking — 
you — are — awake  /' ' 

He  was,  and  it  was  daylight,  and  around  him 
were  the  familiar  objects  of  his  own  room.  He 
wiped  his  forehead,  which  was  cold  and  wet. 
He  felt  utterly  exhausted. 

21 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

" Stay  with  me  to  the  end!" 

If  she  only  would!  If  he  could  find  her — 
find  her  in  this  warm,  human  world,  away  from 
that  ghastly  border-land  where  they  two  met. 
For  in  that  hour  he  knew  he  loved — what  ?  A 
woman  or  a  ghost?  A  creature  of  this  world 
or  a  fantasy  of  the  night?  Wherever  she  was, 
whatever  she  was,  he  loved  her  and  he  wanted 
her.  And  in  that  hour  of  his  agony  her  eyes 
had  told  that  she  loved  and  wanted  him. 

It  was  eight  months  before  they  met  again. 
Varick's  friends  thought  him  changed,  and 
quite  possibly  he  was.  The  insouciant  boy  of 
twenty-eight  had  become  a  man,  a  sympathetic, 
serious,  thoughtful  man,  still  given  to  sports 
and  outdoor  life,  but  more  than  all  devoted  to 
a  search  which  had  taken  him  to  no  end  of  out- 
of-the-way  European  towns.  He  was  sleeping 
in  one  of  these  one  night  (not  the  one,  alas! — 
he  had  not  found  that)  when  the  veil,  now  so 
warmly  welcome,  fell  for  the  fourth  time. 

He  was  in  an  exquisite  Italian  garden,  a 
place  all  perfume  and  May  breezes  and  flood- 
ing sunshine  and  overarching  blue  sky.  As  he 
entered  it  he  saw  her  coming  to  meet  him,  and 
he  went  forward  to  greet  her  with  his  pulses 
bounding  and  a  light  in  his  eyes  which  no  eyes 

22 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

but  hers  had  ever  seen  there.  Even  in  that 
supreme  moment  the  wonderfully  real  atmos- 
phere of  it  all  impressed  him.  He  heard  a  dry 
twig  crack  under  his  foot  as  he  walked,  and  he 
recognized  the  different  perfumes  of  the  flowers 
around  him — the  heavy  sweetness  of  a  few 
belated  orange  blossoms,  the  delicate  breath 
of  the  oleander,  the  reminiscent  perfume  of  the 
rose.  Then  their  hands  met  and  their  eyes, 
and  each  drew  a  long  breath,  and  neither  spoke 
for  a  moment.  When  Varick  found  words 
they  were  very  commonplace. 

"Oh,  my  love,  my  love!"  he  said.  And  she, 
listening  to  them  with  sudden  tears  in  her 
brown  eyes,  seemed  to  find  in  them  the  utmost 
eloquence  of  the  human  tongue. 

"It  has  been  so  long,  so  long!"  he  gasped. 
"  I  began  to  think  I  was  never  to  see  you  again." 

They  drifted  side  by  side  along  a  winding, 
rose-hedged  path,  past  an  old  sun-dial,  past  a 
triumphant  peacock  strutting  before  his  mild 
little  mate,  past  a  fountain  whose  spray  flung 
out  to  them  a  welcome.  She  led  the  way  with 
the  accustomed  step  of  one  who  knew  and 
loved  the  place.  They  came  to  a  marble  seat, 
half  hidden  by  a  tangle  of  vines  and  scarlet 
blossoms,  and  sheltered  by  overhanging  olean- 

23 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

der  branches;  there  she  sat  down  and  moved 
her  skirts  aside  that  he  might  sit  close  to  her. 
Her  brown  eyes,  raised  now  to  his  hungry  gray 
ones,  looked  at  him  with  the  softened  brill- 
iance he  had  sometimes  seen  in  those  of  a 
happy  child. 

"Should  you  have  missed  me,"  she  asked, 
softly,  "  if  you  had  never  seen  me  again  ?  Should 
you  have  been  sorry?" 

He  drew  a  long  breath. 

"I  love  you,"  he  said.  "Whatever  you  are, 
wherever  you  come  from,  whatever  all  this 
means,  I  love  you.  I  don't  understand  any- 
thing else,  but  I  know  that.  It's  the  one  sure 
thing,  the  one  real  thing,  in  all  this  tangle." 

Without  a  word  she  put  her  hand  in  his. 
He  could  feel  distinctly  its  cool,  soft,  exquisite 
texture.  With  an  exclamation  of  delight  he 
drew  her  toward  him,  but  she  held  herself 
away,  the  expression  of  her  beautiful  face 
softening  the  effect  of  the  recoil. 

"Not  yet,  dear,"  she  said,  gently.  "We 
must  be  very  careful.  You  do  not  understand. 
If  you  do  anything  abrupt  or  sudden  you  will 
wake — and  then  we  shall  be  parted  again,  who 
knows  for  how  long!" 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke. 
24 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Seeing  them,  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and 
groaned,  while  the  sense  of  his  utter  helplessness 
rolled  over  him  like  a  flood. 

"God!"  he  broke  out,  with  sudden  fierceness. 
"  What  devil's  trick  is  this  ?  It's  not  a  dream. 
It  can't  be  a  dream.  Here  we  are,  two  human 
beings  in  a  human  world — I'll  swear  it.  Smell 
that  oleander.  Listen  to  that  bird  sing.  Hear 
the  trickle  of  that  fountain.  And  yet  you  tell 
me  that  we  are  asleep!" 

She  laid  her  head  in  the  curve  of  her  arm, 
resting  on  the  ivy-covered  back  of  the  low  seat. 
Bending  over  her,  he  saw  that  her  cheeks  were 
wet.  The  sight  made  him  desperate. 

"  Don't !"  he  cried,  hoarsely.  "  Don't  do  that ! 
Tell  me  what  is  expected  of  me.  Whatever  it  is, 
no  matter  how  hard  it  is,  or  how  long  it  takes, 
I'll  do  it." 

She  did  not  reply,  but  she  made  a  quick  little 
gesture  with  the  hand  nearest  him.  It  signi- 
fied hopelessness,  almost  despair.  Darkness  be- 
gan to  fall,  and  an  early  moon  hung  pale  in 
the  heavens.  Somewhere  in  the  thick  bushes 
near  them  a  nightingale  began  to  sing.  To 
Varick's  excited  fancy  there  was  a  heart-break- 
ing pathos  in  the  soft  notes.  They  seemed  to 
have  been  together,  he  and  she,  for  a  long  time 
3  25 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

— for  hours.  He  bent  his  head  till  it  touched 
hers. 

"But  you  love  me?"  he  asked.  She  moved 
a  little  and  wiped  her  eyes  with  an  absurdly 
tiny,  lace-edged  square  of  linen.  One  corner, 
he  noticed,  bore  an  embroidered  coronet. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  very  quietly,  "I  love  you." 

Her  tone  as  she  spoke  expressed  such  entire 
hopelessness  that  the  full  sense  of  her  words 
did  not  at  once  come  to  him.  When  it  did, 
slowly,  sweetly,  she  was  speaking  again. 

"But  oh,  dearest,  dearest!"  she  broke  out, 
"why  do  we  love?  To  what  can  love  lead  us 
— two  poor  shadows  in  a  dream  world,  in  which 
alone  we  can  meet?" 

He  was  silent.  There  seemed,  somehow, 
nothing  that  he  could  say,  though  later  he 
thought  of  many  words  with  which  he  might 
have  filled  that  throbbing  silence.  The  dusk 
deepened  around  them.  Off  in  the  thicket 
the  nightingale  still  warbled  passionately,  and 
now  the  stars  began  to  come  out  over  their 
heads,  pale  as  yet  against  the  warm  blue  of  the 
heavens.  Varick,  sitting  stiffly  on  the  old 
marble  bench,  became  conscious  of  an  odd 
dizziness,  and  set  his  teeth  with  a  sudden  de- 
termination to  show  no  evidence  of  it.  She 

26 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

had  risen  and  was  moving  about  among  the 
rose-bushes  just  behind  them.  Almost  before 
he  missed  her  she  had  returned,  holding  in  her 
hand  a  beautiful  salmon-hued  rose,  with  a  flame- 
colored,  crumply  heart.  He  had  never  before 
seen  one  like  it.  As  she  held  it  near  him  it 
exhaled  an  exquisitely  reminiscent  perfume — a 
perfume  which  seemed  to  breathe  of  old  joys, 
old  memories,  and  loves  of  long  ago. 

"  Is  it  not  beautiful  ?"  she  said.  "  It  is  called 
the  Toinnette.  Take  it,  dear,  and  keep  it — for 
memory."  Then,  as  he  took  it  from  her,  her 
eyes  widened  in  a  sudden  anguish  of  dread  and 
comprehension . 

"  Oh,  you're  leaving  me !"  she  said.  "  You're 
waking.  Dearest,  dearest,  stay  with  me!" 

The  words  and  the  look  that  accompanied 
them  galvanized  him  into  sudden  action.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  held 
her  there,  crushed  her  there,  kissing  her  eyes, 
her  hair,  her  exquisitely  soft  mouth. 

"I  will  not  leave  you!"  he  raved.  "I  swear 
I  won't!  I  defy  the  devil  that's  back  of  this! 
I  swear — "  But  she,  too,  was  speaking  now, 
and  her  words  came  to  his  ears  as  from  a  long, 
long  distance,  sobbingly,  with  a  catch  in  the 
breath,  but  distinct. 

27 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Alas!"  she  cried,  "you  have  ruined  every- 
thing! You  have  ruined  everything!  You  will 
never  see  me  again.  Dearest,  dearest — " 

He  awoke.  His  heart  was  thumping  to  suf- 
focation, and  he  lay  exhausted  on  his  pillow. 
It  was  a  dark  morning,  and  a  cold  rain  beat 
dismally  against  the  window-panes.  Gone  were 
the  Dream  Woman,  the  Italian  garden,  the 
song  of  the  nightingale,  the  perfume  of  flowers. 
How  definite  that  perfume  had  been!  He 
could  smell  it  yet,  all  around  him.  It  was  like 
— what  was  it  like  ?  He  became  suddenly  con- 
scious of  an  unusual  sensation  in  his  hand,  lying 
on  the  bedspread.  He  glanced  at  it  and  then 
sat  up  with  a  sudden  jerk  that  almost  threw 
him  off  his  balance.  In  his  upturned  palm  was 
a  rose — a  salmon-colored  rose,  slightly  crushed, 
but  fresh  and  fragrant,  with  a  flame-colored, 
crumply  heart.  Varick  stared  at  it,  shut  his 
eyes,  opened  them,  and  stared  again.  It  was 
still  there,  and,  with  the  discovery  that  it  was, 
Varick  became  conscious  of  a  prickling  of  the 
scalp,  a  chill  along  the  spine.  His  brown  face 
whitened. 

"Well,  by  all  the  gods!"  he  gasped.  "How 
did  that  thing  get  here?" 

No  one  ever  told  him.  Possibly  no  one  could 
28 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

except  the  Dream  Woman,  and  her  he  never 
saw  again ;  so  the  mystery  was  unfathomable. 
He  put  the  rose  between  the  leaves  of  the  Bible 
his  mother  had  given  him  when  he  went  to 
college,  and  which  he  had  not  opened  since 
until  that  morning;  and  the  rose  became  dry 
and  faded  as  the  years  passed,  quite  as  any 
other  rose  would  have  done. 

Varick  paid  a  second  and  quite  casual  visit 
to  his  medical  friend,  who  scoffed  at  him  rudely 
and  urged  him  to  go  on  a  long  hunting  trip. 
He  went,  and  was  singularly  successful,  and 
came  back  with  considerable  big  game  and  a 
rich,  brown  complexion.  When  the  doctor 
asked  him  whether  he  still  awoke  from  his  in- 
nocent slumbers  to  find  his  little  hands  full  of 
pretty  flowers,  Varick  swore  naturally  and 
healthfully,  turned  very  red,  and  playfully 
thumped  the  medical  man  between  the  shoul- 
ders with  a  force  that  sent  that  gentleman's 
eye-glasses  off  his  nose.  But,  notwithstanding 
all  these  reassuring  incidents,  Varick  has  never 
married;  and  he  remains  deeply  interested  as 
to  the  source  of  that  rose.  He  would  be  very 
grateful  to  any  one  who  could  tell  him  where  the 
thing  came  from.  The  nearest  he  ever  came  to 
this  was  when  a  man  who  knew  a  good  deal 
29 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

about  flowers  once  inspected  the  faded  rose,  at 
Varick's  request,  and  listened  to  the  description 
of  how  it  looked  when  fresh. 

"Why,  yes,"  he  said,  "I  know  that  variety. 
It  grows  in  Italy,  but  I  don't  think  it's  known 
here.  They  call  it  the  Toinnette!" 


II 

THE   EXORCISM   OF   LILY   BELL 

IT  is  quite  possible  that  not  even  Raymond 
Mortimer  Prescott  himself  could  have  told 
definitely  the  day  or  the  hour  when  Lily  Bell 
first  came  into  his  life ;  and  as  Raymond  Morti- 
mer Prescott  was  not  only  the  sole  person  privi- 
leged to  enjoy  Miss  Bell's  society,  but  was  also 
the  sole  person  who  had  been  permitted  to  gaze 
upon  her  charms  at  all,  it  would  seem  that  in- 
quiries directed  elsewhere  were  destined  to  prove 
fruitless.  Raymond  himself,  moreover,  was  not 
communicative;  he  had  the  reserve  of  an  only 
child  whose  early  efforts  at  conversation  had 
been  discouraged  by  parents  selfishly  absorbed 
in  "grown-up"  interests,  and  whose  home  was 
too  remote  from  other  country  homes  to  attract 
playmates. 

His  mother  was  a  nervous  invalid,  and  almost 
in  infancy  Raymond  had  grasped  the  fact  that 
his  absence  seemed  to  be  of  more  definite  bene- 

31 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

fit  to  her  than  any  other  remedy  for  neuras- 
thenia. His  father  was  a  busy  man,  absent 
from  home  for  weeks  at  a  time,  and  bearing  this 
exile  with  a  jovial  cheerfulness  which  did  not 
always  characterize  his  moods  when  he  deigned 
to  join  the  family  circle.  Occasionally  the  elder 
Prescott  experienced  a  twinge  of  conscience 
when  he  looked  at  his  son,  ten  years  of  age  now, 
the  possessor  of  a  superbly  healthy  body  and 
presumably  of  the  social  aspirations  of  growing 
Americans.  In  such  moments  of  illumination 
the  father  reflected  uneasily  that  "the  little 
beggar  must  have  a  beastly  lonesome  time  of 
it";  then,  surveying  the  little  beggar's  choice 
company  of  pets,  gazing  upon  the  dam  he  had 
built  with  his  own  busy  hands,  inspecting  ap- 
provingly his  prowess  in  the  swimming-hole  and 
with  his  fish-rods,  even  noting,  in  his  conscien- 
tious appraisal  of  his  heir's  assets,  the  self-asser- 
tive quality  of  the  freckles  on  his  nose  and  the 
sunburn  on  the  whole  of  his  visage,  this  per- 
functory American  parent  easily  decided  that 
nothing  need  be  changed  for  another  year  or 
two.  It  was  impossible  even  for  a  scrupulous 
conscience  to  make  a  youthful  martyr  of  Ray- 
mond Mortimer.  Not  the  most  rabid  New  Eng- 
land brand  could  compass  that,  and  certainly 

32 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Raymond  Mortimer  Prescott,  ST.,  had  no  such 
possession.  The  housekeeper,  Miss  Greene,  a 
former  trained  nurse  who  had  charge  of  the  boy 
in  infancy,  looked  after  his  clothes  and  his  meals. 
Notwithstanding  his  steadfast  elusiveness,  she 
had  also  succeeded  in  making  him  master  of 
extremely  elementary  knowledge  of  letters  and 
figures.  Beyond  this  he  was  arrogantly  igno- 
rant, even  to  the  point  of  being  ignorant  of  his 
ignorance.  He  had  his  dogs,  his  rods  and  tackle, 
his  tool-house,  unlimited  fresh  air,  sunshine, 
and  perfect  health;  in  addition  he  had  Lily 
Bell. 

How  long  he  may  have  enjoyed  the  pleasure 
of  this  young  person's  company  unobserved  by 
his  elders  is  a  matter  of  surmise;  it  may  well 
have  been  a  long  time,  for  family  curiosity  never 
concerned  itself  with  Raymond  Mortimer  unless 
he  was  annoyingly  obtrusive  or  disobedient. 
But  the  first  domestic  records  of  her  arrival, 
kept  naturally  enough  by  Miss  Greene,  whose 
lonely  spinster  heart  was  the  boy's  domestic 
refuge,  went  back  to  a  day  in  June  when  he  was 
five.  He  was  in  his  nursery  and  she  in  an  ad- 
joining room,  the  communicating  door  of  which 
was  open.  She  had  heard  him  in  the  nursery 
talking  to  himself,  as  she  supposed,  for  a  long 

33 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

time.  At  last  his  voice  took  on  a  note  of  child- 
ish irritation,  and  she  distinctly  heard  his 
words. 

"  But  it  won't  be  right  that  way,"  he  was  say- 
ing, earnestly.  "Don't  you  see  it  won't  be 
right  that  way?  There  won't  be  nothing  to 
hold  up  the  top." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  in  the  midst  of 
which  Miss  Greene  stole  cautiously  to  the  nurs- 
ery door  and  looked  in.  The  boy  was  on  his 
knees  on  the  floor,  an  ambitious  structure  of 
blocks  before  him,  which  he  had  evidently  drawn 
back  to  contemplate.  His  eyes  were  turned 
from  it,  however,  and  his  head  was  bent  a  lit- 
tle to  the  left.  He  wore  a  look  of  great  atten- 
tion and  annoyance.  He  seemed  to  be  listen- 
ing to  a  prolonged  argument. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  at  last.  "I'll  do  it. 
But  it  ain't  right,  and  you'll  be  sorry  when  you 
see  it  fall."  He  hurriedly  rearranged  the  block 
structure,  adding  to  the  tremulously  soaring 
tower  on  the  left  side.  True  to  his  prediction, 
it  fell  with  a  crash,  destroying  other  parts  of 
the  edifice  in  its  downfall.  The  boy  turned  on 
his  unseen  companion  a  face  in  which  triumph 
and  disgust  were  equally  blended.  "There, 
now!"  he  taunted;  "didn't  I  tell  you  so,  Lily 

34 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

Bell?     But  you  never  will  b'lieve  what  I  say — 
jes  like  girls!" 

Miss  Greene  hurriedly  withdrew,  lifting  to 
the  ceiling  eyes  of  awed  surprise.  For  some 
reason  which  she  was  subsequently  unable  to 
explain,  she  asked  the  boy  no  questions;  but  she 
watched  him  more  closely  after  this,  and  dis- 
covered that,  however  remote  the  date  of  Miss 
Bell's  first  appearance,  she  was  now  firmly  es- 
tablished as  a  daily  guest  —  an  honored  one 
whose  influence,  though  mild,  was  almost  bound- 
less, and  whose  gentle  behests  were  usually  un- 
hesitatingly obeyed.  Occasionally,  as  in  the  in- 
stance of  the  blocks,  Raymond  Mortimer  com- 
bated them;  once  or  twice  he  disobeyed  them. 
But  on  the  second  of  these  occasions  he  drooped 
mournfully  through  the  day,  bearing  the  look  of 
one  adrift  in  the  universe;  and  the  observant 
Miss  Greene  noted  that  the  following  day  was 
a  strenuous  one,  occupied  with  eager  fulfilment 
of  the  unexpressed  wishes  of  Lily  Bell,  who 
had  evidently  returned  to  his  side.  Again  and 
again  the  child  did  things  he  most  obviously 
would  have  preferred  not  to  do.  The  house- 
keeper looked  on  with  deep  but  silent  interest 
until  she  heard  him  say,  for  perhaps  the  tenth 
time,  "Well,  I  don't  like  it,  but  I  will  if  you 

35 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

really  want  me  to."  Then  she  spoke,  but  so 
casually  that  the  boy,  absorbed  in  his  play,  felt 
nothing  unusual  in  the  question. 

"Whom  are  you  talking  to,  Raymond?"  she 
asked,  as  she  rounded  the  heel  of  the  stock- 
ing she  was  knitting.  He  replied  abstractedly, 
without  raising  his  eyes  from  the  work  he  was 
doing. 

"To  Lily  Bell,"  he  said. 

Miss  Greene  knitted  in  silence  for  a  moment. 
Then,  "Where  is  she?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  she's  here!"  said  the  child.  "Right 
beside  me!" 

Miss  Greene  hesitated  and  took  the  plunge. 
"I  don't  see  her,"  she  remarked,  still  casually. 

This  time  the  boy  raised  his  head  and  looked 
at  her.  There  was  in  his  face  the  slight  im- 
patience of  one  who  deals  with  an  inferior  un- 
derstanding. 

"'Course  you  don't,"  he  said,  carelessly. 
"You  can't.  No  one  can't  see  Lily  Bell  but 
'cept  me." 

Miss  Greene  felt  snubbed,  but  persevered. 

"  She  doesn't  seem  to  be  playing  very  nicely 
to-day,"  she  hazarded. 

He  gave  her  a  worried  look. 

"She  isn't,"  he  conceded,  "not  very.  'Most 
36 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

always  she's  very,  very  nice,  but  she's  kind  of 
cross  to-day.  I  guess  p'r'aps,"  he  speculated, 
frankly,  "you're  'sturbing  her  by  talking  so 
much." 

Miss  Greene  accepted  the  subtle  hint  and 
remained  silent.  From  that  time,  however, 
Raymond  Mortimer  counted  on  her  acceptance 
of  Lily  Bell  as  a  recognized  personality,  and  re- 
ferred to  her  freely. 

"Lily  Bell  wants  us  to  go  on  a  picnic  to- 
morrow," he  announced,  one  day  when  he  was 
six.  "  She  says  let's  go  on  the  island  under  the 
willow  an'  have  egg-san'wiches  an'  ginger-ale 
for  lunch." 

Miss  Greene  carried  out  the  programme  cheer- 
fully, for  the  child  made  singularly  few  requests. 
Thomas,  the  gardener,  was  to  row  them  over, 
and  Miss  Greene,  a  stout  person  who  moved 
with  difficulty,  seated  herself  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  drew  Ray- 
mond Mortimer  down  beside  her.  He  wriggled 
out  of  her  grasp  and  struggled  to  his  feet,  his 
stout  legs  apart,  his  brown  eyes  determined. 

"You  can't  sit  there,  please,  Miss  Greene," 
he  said,  almost  austerely.  "Lily  Bell  wants  to 
sit  there  with  me.  You  can  take  the  other 
seat." 

37 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

For  once  the  good-natured  Miss  Greene  re- 
belled. 

"I'll  do  no  such  thing,"  she  announced,  firm- 
ly, "flopping  round  and  upsetting  the  boat  and 
perhaps  drowning  us  all.  You  and  your  Lily 
Bell  can  sit  together  in  the  middle  and  let  me 
be." 

An  expression  of  hope  flitted  across  the  child's 
face.  "Will  that  do,  Lily  Bell?"  he  asked, 
eagerly.  The  reply  was  evidently  unfavorable, 
for  his  jaw  fell  and  he  flushed.  "She  says  it 
won't,"  he  announced,  miserably.  "I'm  awful 
sorry,  Miss  Greene,  but  we'll  have  to  'sturb 
you." 

If  Miss  Lily  Bell  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
making  such  demands,  the  housekeeper  would 
have  continued  to  rebel.  As  it  was,  she  had 
grave  doubts  of  the  wisdom  of  establishing  such 
a  dangerous  precedent  as  compliance  with  the 
absurd  request.  But  Raymond  Mortimer's  dis- 
tress was  so  genuine,  and  the  pleasure  of  the 
picnic  so  obviously  rested  on  her  surrender,  that 
she  made  it,  albeit  slowly  and  with  groans  and 
dismal  predictions.  The  boy's  face  beamed  as 
he  thanked  her. 

"I  was  so  'fraid  Lily  Bell  would  be  cross," 
he  confided  to  her,  as  he  sat  sedately  on  his  half 

38 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

of  the  stern -seat.  "But  she's  all  right,  an' 
we're  going  to  have  a  lovely  time." 

That  prediction  was  justified  by  events,  for 
the  occasion  was  a  brilliant  one,  and  Lily  Bell's 
share  in  it  so  persistent  and  convincing  that  at 
times  Miss  Greene  actually  found  herself  shar- 
ing in  the  delusion  of  the  little  girl's  presence. 
Her  good-natured  yielding  in  the  matter  of  the 
seat,  moreover,  had  evidently  commended  her 
to  Miss  Bell's  good  graces,  and  that  young  per- 
son brought  out  the  choicest  assortment  of  her 
best  manners  to  do  honor  to  the  grown-up  guest. 

"Lily  Bell  wants  you  to  have  this  seat,  Miss 
Greene,  'cause  it's  in  the  shade  an'  has  a  nice 
back,"  said  Raymond,  delightedly,  almost  as 
soon  as  they  had  reached  the  island;  and  Miss 
Greene  flopped  into  it  with  a  sigh  of  content  in 
the  realization  that  Miss  Bell  did  not  intend 
to  usurp  all  the  choice  spots,  as  her  persistence 
earlier  in  the  day  might  possibly  have  sug- 
gested to  a  suspicious  mind.  There,  alternate- 
ly reading  and  dozing,  she  incidentally  listened 
to  the  flow  of  conversation  poured  forth  by  her 
small  charge,  varied  only  by  occasional  offer- 
ings to  her,  usually  suggested  by  Miss  Bell  and 
ranging  from  the  minnow  he  had  succeeded  in 
catching  with  a  worm  and  a  bent  pin  to  the 

39 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

choicest  tidbits  of  the  luncheon.  There  were 
two  glasses  for  the  ginger -ale.  Miss  Greene 
had  one  and  Lily  Bell  the  other.  Raymond 
Mortimer  gallantly  drank  from  the  bottle. 

"Why  don't  you  use  Lily  Bell's  glass?"  was 
Miss  Greene's  very  natural  inquiry.  It  would 
seem,  indeed,  that  two  such  congenial  souls 
would  have  welcomed  the  closer  union  this  sug- 
gestion invited,  but  Raymond  Mortimer  prompt- 
ly dispelled  that  illusion. 

"  She  doesn't  want  to,"  he  responded,  gloomily. 

In  other  details,  however,  Miss  Lily  Bell  was 
of  an  engaging  sweetness  and  of  a  yielding  dis- 
position of  the  utmost  correctness.  Again  and 
again  Raymond  Mortimer  succeeded  in  con- 
vincing her,  by  the  force  and  eloquence  of  his 
arguments,  of  the  superiority  of  his  ideas  on 
fort  building,  fishing,  and  other  occupations 
which  filled  the  day.  Miss  Greene's  heart 
yearned  over  the  boy  as  he  came  to  her  during 
the  mid-day  heat  and  cuddled  down  comfort- 
ably by  her  side,  heavy-eyed  and  tired  after  his 
exertions. 

"Where's  Lily  Bell?"  she  asked,  brushing 
his  damp  hair  off  his  forehead  and  wondering 
whether  she  was  also  privileged  to  enjoy  the 
unseen  presence  of  the  guest  of  honor. 

40 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"She's  back  there  under  the  tree  takin'  a 
nap,"  murmured  the  boy,  drowsily,  indicating 
the  exact  spot  with  a  grimy  little  hand.  "She 
tol'  me  to  come  an'  stay  with  you  for  a  while." 

Miss  Greene  smiled,  deeply  touched  by  this 
sweet  mingling  of  coyness  and  thoughtfulness 
on  the  maiden's  part. 

"What  does  Lily  Bell  call  you?"  she  asked, 
with  interest.  The  boy  snuggled  down  on  the 
grass  beside  her  and  rested  his  head  comfortably 
in  her  lap. 

"  She  knows  my  name's  Raymond  Mortimer," 
he  said,  sleepily,  "but  she  calls  me  'Bill'  for 
short."  Then,  more  sleepily,  "I  asked  her  to," 
he  added.  In  another  moment  his  eyelids  had 
dropped  and  he  too  was  in  the  Land  of  Nod, 
whither  Lily  Bell  had  happily  preceded  him. 

During  the  next  four  years  Miss  Greene  was 
privileged  to  spend  many  days  in  the  society 
of  Miss  Lily  Bell,  and  the  acquaintance  between 
them  ripened  into  a  pleasant  friendship.  To 
her  great  satisfaction  she  found  Miss  Bell's  name 
one  to  conjure  with  in  those  moments  of  friction 
which  are  unavoidable  in  the  relations  of  old 
and  young. 

"  I  don't  think  Lily  Bell  would  like  that,"  she 
began  to  say,  tentatively,  when  differences  of 

4  41 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

opinion  as  to  his  conduct  came  up  between 
Raymond  and  herself.  "I  think  she  likes  a 
gentlemanly  boy." 

Unless  her  young  charge  was  in  a  very  ob- 
stinate mood  the  reminder  usually  prevailed, 
and  it  was  of  immense  value  in  overcoming  the 
early  prejudice  of  the  small  boy  against  soap 
and  water. 

"Isn't  Lily  Bell  clean?"  she  had  inquired 
one  day  when  he  was  eight  and  the  necessity 
of  the  daily  tubbing  was  again  being  empha- 
sized to  him. 

Raymond  conceded  that  she  was. 

"When  she  first  comes  she  is,"  he  added. 
"  'Course  she  gets  dirty  when  we  play.  Why, 
sometimes  she  gets  awful  dirty!" 

The  excellent  and  wise  woman  saw  her  op- 
portunity, and  promptly  grasped  it. 

"Ah,"  she  exclaimed,  "that's  the  point.  I 
want  you  to  start  out  clean  and  to  go  to  bed 
clean.  If  you'll  promise  me  to  take  a  tub  be- 
fore you  dress  in  the  morning,  and  another  be- 
fore you  go  to  bed  at  night,  I  don't  care  how 
dirty  you  get  in  the  mean  time." 

This  happy  compromise  effected,  she  was 
moved  to  ask  more  particularly  how  Miss  Lily 
Bell  looked.  She  recalled  now  that  she  had 

42 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

never  heard  her  described.  Raymond  Morti- 
mer, she  discovered,  was  no  better  than  the  rest 
of  his  sex  when  it  came  to  a  description  of  fem- 
inine features  and  apparel,  but  on  two  points 
his  testimony  was  absolute.  Lily  Bell  had  curls 
and  she  wore  pantalettes.  The  last  word  was 
not  in  his  vocabulary,  and  it  was  some  time  be- 
fore he  succeeded  in  conveying  the  correct  im- 
pression to  Miss  Greene's  mind. 

"Don't  you  remember  the  little  girls  in 
mamma's  old  Godey  books?"  he  asked,  at  last, 
very  anxiously,  seeing  that  his  early  imperfect 
description  had  led  to  an  apparent  oscillation 
of  Miss  Greene's  imagination  between  the  paper 
ruffle  of  a  lamb-chop  and  a  frilly  sunbonnet. 
"They  have  slippers  an'  lastic  bands  an'  scal- 
lopy  funnels  coming  down  under  their  skirts. 
Well" — this  with  a  long-drawn  sigh  of  relief 
as  she  beamed  into  acquiescence — "that's  how 
Lily  Bell  looks!" 

Long  before  this  the  family  had  accepted 
Lily  Bell  as  a  part  of  the  domestic  circle,  find- 
ing her  a  fairly  trustworthy  and  convenient 
playmate  for  the  boy.  Not  always,  of  course; 
for  it  was  very  inconvenient  to  leave  a  vacant 
seat  beside  Raymond  Mortimer  when  they  went 
driving,  but  this  had  to  be  done  or  Raymond 

43 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

stayed  at  home  rather  than  desert  his  cherished 
Lily.  It  was  long  before  his  father  forgot  the 
noble  rebuke  administered  by  his  son  on  one 
occasion  when  the  elder  Prescott,  thoughtlessly 
ignoring  the  presence  of  Miss  Bell,  sought  to 
terminate  the  argument  by  sitting  down  by  the 
boy's  side.  The  shrieks  of  that  youth,  usually 
so  self-contained,  rent  the  ambient  air. 

"Father,  father!"  he  howled,  literally  dancing 
up  and  down  in  his  anguish,  "you're  sitting 
on  Lily  Bell!"  Then,  at  the  height  of  the  up- 
roar, he  stopped  short,  an  expression  of  over- 
whelming relief  covering  his  face.  "Oh  no, 
you  ain't,  either,"  he  cried,  ecstatically.  "She 
jumped  out.  But  she  won't  go  now,  so  neither 
will  I " ;  and  he  promptly  joined  his  imaginary 
playmate  in  the  road.  Pausing  there,  he  gave 
his  abashed  parent  a  glance  of  indescribable 
reproach  and  a  helpful  hint  on  etiquette. 

"Don't  you  know,"  he  asked,  stonily,  "that 
gentlemen  don't  never  sit  on  ladies?"  Striding 
gloomily  back  to  the  house,  presumably  close 
by  the  side  of  the  outraged  maiden,  he  left  his 
convulsed  parent  to  survive  as  best  he  could 
the  deprivation  of  their  presence.  This  Mr. 
Prescott  did  with  reluctance.  He  was  begin- 
ning to  find  the  society  of  his  son  and  Lily  Bell 

44 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

both  interesting  and  exhilarating.  He  showed, 
in  fact,  a  surprising  understanding  of  and  sym- 
pathy with  "the  love-affair,"  as  he  called  it. 
"  The  poor  little  beggar  had  to  have  something," 
he  said,  indulgently,  "and  an  imaginary  play- 
mate is  as  safe  as  anything  I  know."  There- 
fore he  referred  to  Miss  Bell  respectfully  in  con- 
versation with  his  son,  and,  save  on  the  tragic 
occasion  just  chronicled,  treated  her  with  dis- 
tinguished consideration. 

His  wife's  acceptance  of  the  situation  was 
less  felicitous.  Mrs.  Prescott,  whose  utter  lack 
of  a  sense  of  humor  had  long  saddened  her 
domestic  circle,  suddenly  felt  the  birth  of  one 
now  that  was  even  more  saddening,  and  the 
cause  of  it  was  Lily  Bell.  She  referred  to  that 
young  person  wholly  without  respect,  and  was 
convulsed  by  foolish  laughter  when  her  son 
soberly  replied.  The  boy  resented  this  atti- 
tude— first  sullenly,  then  fiercely. 

"She  acts  as  if  there  wasn't  really  any  Lily 
Bell,"  he  confided  to  his  father,  in  a  moment  of 
such  emotion.  "I  don't  think  that's  nice  or 
p'lite,  an'  it  hurts  Lily  Bell's  feelings." 

"That's  bad,"  said  the  father,  soberly.  "We 
mustn't  have  that.  I'll  speak  to  your  mother." 

He  did  subsequently,  and  to  such  good  effect 
45 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

that  the  expression  of  Mrs.  Prescott's  amuse- 
ment was  temporarily  checked.  But  Raymond 
Mortimer's  confidence  was  temporarily  blighted, 
and  he  kept  his  little  friend  and  his  mother  as 
far  apart  as  possible.  Rarely  after  that  did  Lily 
Bell  seek  the  invalid's  room  with  the  boy,  though 
she  frequently  accompanied  him  to  his  father's 
library  when  that  gentleman  was  home  and, 
presumably,  listened  with  awe  to  their  inspiring 
conversation.  Mr.  Prescott  had  begun  to  talk 
to  his  boy  "as  man  to  man,"  as  he  once  put 
it,  and  the  phrase  had  so  delighted  the  boy, 
now  ten,  that  his  father  freely  gave  him  the 
innocent  gratification  of  listening  to  it  often. 
Moreover,  it  helped  in  certain  conversations 
where  questions  of  morals  came  up.  As  the 
small  son  of  an  irate  father,  Raymond  Morti- 
mer might  not  have  been  much  impressed  by 
the  parental  theory  that  watermelons  must  not 
be  stolen  from  the  patches  of  their  only  neigh- 
bor, a  crusty  old  bachelor.  As  a  man  of  the 
world,  however,  listening  to  the  views  of  one 
wiser  and  more  experienced,  he  was  made  to 
see  that  helping  one's  self  to  the  melons  of  an- 
other is  really  not  the  sort  of  thing  a  decent 
chap  can  do.  Lily  Bell,  too,  held  the  elder 
man's  opinion. 

46 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"She  says  she  doesn't  like  it,  either,"  the 
boy  confided  to  his  father  with  an  admiring 
sigh.  "  She  never  would  go  with  me,  you  know. 
My!" — this  with  a  heavier  sigh — "I'm  'fraid  if 
I  do  all  the  things  you  an'  Lily  Bell  want  me 
to  I'll  be  awful  good!" 

His  father  sought  to  reassure  him  on  this 
point,  but  he  himself  was  beginning  to  cherish 
a  lurking  fear  of  a  different  character.  Was 
longer  continuance  of  this  dream  companion- 
ship really  wise?  So  far,  if  it  had  influenced 
the  boy  at  all,  it  had  been  for  good.  But  he 
was  growing  older;  he  was  almost  eleven.  Was 
it  not  time  that  this  imaginary  child  friend 
should  be  eliminated  in  favor  of — of  what? 
The  father's  mind  came  up  against  the  ques- 
tion and  recoiled,  blankly.  Not  exercise,  not 
outdoor  pursuits,  not  pets,  for  Raymond  Morti- 
mer had  all  these  and  more.  His  little  girl 
friend  had  not  made  him  a  milksop.  He  was 
an  active,  energetic,  live,  healthy-minded  boy, 
with  all  a  boy's  normal  interests.  When  he 
built  kennels  for  his  dogs  and  made  hutches  for 
his  rabbits,  Lily  Bell  stood  by,  it  is  true,  but  her 
friendly  supervision  but  added  to  the  vigor  and 
excellence  of  his  work.  Indeed,  Lily,  despite 
her  pantalettes,  seemed  to  have  a  sporty  vein 
47 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

in  her.  Still,  the  father  reflected  uneasily,  it 
could  lead  to  no  good — this  continued  abnormal 
development  of  the  imagination.  For  Lily  Bell 
was  as  real  to  the  boy  at  ten  as  she  had  been  at 
six. 

What  could  be  done?  With  what  entering 
wedge  could  one  begin  to  dislodge  this  persist- 
ent presence?  If  one  sent  the  boy  away,  Lily 
Bell,  of  course,  would  go,  too.  If  one  brought — 
if — one — brought — 

Mr.  Prescott  jumped  to  his  feet  and  slapped 
his  knee  with  enthusiasm.  He  had  solved  his 
problem,  and  the  solution  was  exceedingly  sim- 
ple. What,  indeed,  but  another  little  girl!  A 
real  little  girl,  a  flesh-and-blood  little  girl,  a 
jolly,  active  little  girl,  who,  as  Mr.  Prescott  in- 
elegantly put  it  to  himself,  "would  make  Lily 
Bell,  with  her  ringlets  and  her  pantalettes,  look 
like  thirty  cents."  Surely  in  the  circle  of  their 
friends  and  relatives  there  must  be  a  little  girl 
who  could  be  borrowed  and  introduced  —  oh, 
casually  and  with  infinite  tact!  —  into  their 
m6nage  for  a  few  months.  Mr.  Prescott,  well 
pleased  with  himself,  winked  a  Machiavellian 
wink  and  sought  his  wife,  ostensibly  to  consult 
her,  but  in  reality  to  inform  her  that  he  had 
made  up  his  mind,  and  that  it  would  be  her 

48 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

happy  privilege  to  attend  to  the  trivial  details 
of  carrying  out  his  plan. 

In  exactly  three  weeks  Margaret  Hamilton 
Perry  was  established  in  the  Prescott  home- 
stead for  a  visit  of  indefinite  length,  and  in 
precisely  three  hours  after  her  arrival  Marga- 
ret Hamilton  had  annexed  the  Prescott  home- 
stead and  its  inmates  and  all  the  things  apper- 
taining thereto  and  made  them  her  own.  She 
was  the  most  eager  and  adorable  of  small,  fat 
girls — alive  from  the  crown  of  her  curly  head 
to  the  soles  of  her  sensible  little  spring-heeled 
shoes.  As  Mr.  Prescott  subsequently  remarked 
in  a  moment  of  extreme  self-appreciation,  if 
she  had  been  made  to  order  she  couldn't  have 
filled  the  bill  better.  Born  and  bred  in  the 
city,  the  country  was  to  her  a  mine  of  unex- 
plored delights.  The  shyness  of  Raymond  Mor- 
timer, suddenly  confronted  by  this  new  person- 
ality and  the  immediate  need  of  entertaining 
it,  gave  way  before  the  enthusiasm  of  the  lit- 
tle girl  over  his  pets,  his  favorite  haunts,  the 
works  of  his  hands  —  everything  in  which  he 
had  a  share.  Clinging  to  his  hand  in  a  rapt- 
urous panic  as  they  visited  the  animals,  she 
expatiated  on  the  privileges  of  those  hap- 
49 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

py  beings   who   lived   always   amid   such  de- 
lights. 

"  I  wish  I  didn't  ever  have  to  go  away  again," 
she  ended,  wistfully. 

"I  wish  you  didn't,  either,"  said  Raymond, 
gallantly,  and  then  was  shocked  at  himself. 
Was  this  loyalty  to  Lily  Bell?  The  reflection 
gave  a  tinge  of  coldness  to  his  next  utterance. 
When  Margaret  Hamilton,  cheered  by  the  trib- 
ute, asked,  confidently,  "May  I  play  with  you 
lots  and  help  you  to  make  things?"  the  boy's 
response  lagged. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  finally,  "if  Lily  Bell  will  let 
you." 

"Who's  Lily  Bell?" 

"She  —  why,  she's  the  girl  I  play  with! 
Everybody  knows  Lily  Bell!" 

"Oh!" 

Some  of  the  brightness  was  gone  from  the 
eager  face. 

"Will  she  like  me?"  she  asked,  at  last. 

"I  don't  know — I  guess — p'r'aps  so." 

"Will  I  like  her?" 

"I  don't  know.  You  can't  see  her,  you 
know." 

"Can't  see  her?  Why  can't  I  see  her? 
Doesn't  she  come  here,  ever?" 

5° 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"  Oh  yes,  she's  here  all  the  time,  but—"  The 
boy  squirmed.  For  the  first  time  in  his  short 
life  he  was  —  was  he  —  ashamed  of  Lily  Bell? 
No;  not  that.  Never  that!  He  held  his  small 
head  high,  and  his  lips  set;  but  he  was  a  boy, 
after  all,  and  his  voice,  to  cover  the  embarrass- 
ment, took  on  a  tone  of  lofty  superiority. 

"Nobody  ever  does  see  her  but  me,"  he  as- 
serted. "They'd  like  to,  but  they  don't." 

"Why  don't  they?" 

Verily,  this  was  a  persistent  child.  The  boy 
was  in  for  complete  surrender,  and  he  made  it. 

"  She  ain't  a  little  girl  like  you,"  he  explained, 
briefly.  "She  doesn't  have  any  home,  and  I 
don't  know  where  she  comes  from  —  heaven, 
maybe,"  he  hazarded,  desperately,  as  a  sort  of 
"When  in  doubt,  play  trumps."  "But  she 
comes,  an'  no  one  but  me  sees  her,  an'  we 
play." 

"  Huh !' '  This  without  enthusiasm  from  Mar- 
garet Hamilton  Perry.  She  eyed  him  remotely 
for  a  moment.  Then,  with  an  effort  at  under- 
standing, she  spoke  again. 

"  I  shouldn't  think  that  would  be  very  much 
fun,"  she  said,  candidly.  "  Just  pretendin'  there's 
a  little  girl  when  there  ain't!  I  should  think 
it  would  be  lots  nicer — "  She  hesitated,  a 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

sense  of  delicacy  restraining  her  from  making 
the  point  she  so  obviously  had  in  mind. 

"Anyhow,"  she  added,  handsomely,  "I'll  like 
her  an'  play  with  her  if  you  do." 

Raymond  Mortimer  was  relieved  but  doubt- 
ful. Memories  of  the  extreme  contrariness  of 
Lily  Bell  on  occasion  overcame  him. 

"If  she'll  let  you,"  he  repeated,  doggedly. 

Margaret  Hamilton  stared  at  him  and  her 
eyes  grew  big. 

"Won't  you  let  me,  if  she  doesn't?"  she 
gasped.  "Why — why — "  The  situation  over- 
came her.  The  big,  brown  eyes  filled  suddenly. 
A  small  gingham  back  rippling  with  fat  sobs 
was  presented  to  Raymond  Mortimer.  In  him 
was  born  immediately  man's  antipathy  to  wom- 
an's tears. 

"Oh,  say,"  he  begged,  "don't  cry;  please 
don't."  He  approached  the  gingham  back  and 
touched  it  tentatively.  "She  will  let  you  play 
with  us,"  he  urged.  And  then,  moved  to  en- 
tire recklessness  as  the  sobs  continued,  "/'// 
make  her!"  he  promised.  The  gingham  back 
stopped  heaving;  a  wet  face  was  turned  tow- 
ard him,  and  a  rainbow  arched  their  little 
heaven  as  Margaret  Hamilton  smiled.  Her  first 
triumph  was  complete. 

52 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Lily  Bell  did  not  at 
once  lend  herself  to  the  fulfilment  of  this  agree- 
able understanding.  True,  she  appeared  daily, 
as  of  yore,  and  Margaret  Hamilton  was  per- 
mitted to  enter  her  presence  and  join  her  games, 
but  the  exactions  of  Lily  Bell  became  hourly 
more  annoying.  It  was  evident  that  Raymond 
Mortimer  felt  them  as  such,  for  his  anguished 
blushes  testified  to  the  fact  when  he  repeated 
them  to  the  victim. 

"  She  wants  you  to  go  away  off  and  sit  down, 
so's  you  can't  hear  what  we're  saying,"  he  said 
to  Margaret  Hamilton  one  day.  "  I  don't  think 
it's  very  p'lite  of  her,  but  she  says  you  must." 

This  brief  criticism  of  Lily  Bell,  the  first  the 
boy  had  ever  uttered,  cheered  the  little  girl  in 
her  exile.  "Never  mind,"  she  said.  "I  don't 
care — much.  I  know  it  isn't  your  fault."  For 
by  this  time  she,  too,  was  under  the  influence 
of  the  spell  of  convincing  reality  which  Ray- 
mond Mortimer  succeeded  in  throwing  over  his 
imaginary  friend. 

"She  does  things  Ray  wouldn't  do,"  she  once 
confided  to  Miss  Greene.  "I  mean,"  hastily, 
as  she  suddenly  realized  her  own  words — "  I 
mean  she  makes  him  think  —  he  thinks  she 
thinks —  Oh,  I  don't  know  how  to  'splain  it 

53 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

to  you!"  And  Margaret  Hamilton  hastily 
abandoned  so  complicated  a  problem.  In 
reality  she  was  meeting  it  with  a  wisdom  far 
beyond  her  years.  The  boy  was  in  the  grip  of 
an  obsession.  Margaret  Hamilton  would  have 
been  sadly  puzzled  by  the  words,  but  in  her 
wise  little  head  lay  the  idea  they  convey. 

"He  thinks  she  really  is  here,  an'  he  thinks 
he's  got  to  be  nice  to  her  because  they're  such 
ve-ry  old  fren's,"  she  told  herself.  "But  she 
isn't  very  nice  lately,  an'  she  makes  him  cross, 
so  maybe  by-an'-by  he'll  get  tired  an'  make  her 
act  better;  or  maybe — " 

But  that  last  "maybe"  was  too  daring  to 
have  a  place  even  in  the  very  furthest  back  part 
of  a  little  girl's  mind. 

She  lent  herself  with  easy  good-nature  to 
Lily  Bell's  exactions.  She  had  no  fondness  for 
that  young  person,  and  she  let  it  be  seen  that 
she  had  none,  but  she  was  courteous,  as  to  a 
fellow-guest. 

"Pooh!  I  don't  mind,"  was  her  usual  com- 
ment on  Miss  Bell's  behests;  and  this  cheerful 
acceptance  threw  into  strong  relief  the  dark 
shadows  of  Lily  Bell's  perversity.  Once  or 
twice  she  proposed  a  holiday. 

"Couldn't  we  go  off  somewhere,  just  by  our-, 
54 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

selves,  for  a  picnic,"  she  hazarded,  one  morn- 
ing—"an'  not  ask  Lily  Bell?" 

It  was  a  bold  suggestion,  but  the  conduct  of 
Miss  Bell  had  been  especially  reprehensible  the 
day  before,  and  even  the  dauntless  spirit  of 
Margaret  Hamilton  was  sore  with  the  strife. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  a — a  rest,  too?"  she  add- 
ed, insinuatingly.  Apparently  the  boy  would, 
for  without  comment  he  made  the  preparations 
for  the  day,  and  soon  he  and  the  child  were 
seated  side  by  side  in  the  boat  in  which  the  old 
gardener  rowed  them  over  to  their  beloved  island. 

It  was  a  perfect  day.  Nothing  was  said  about 
Lily  Bell,  and  her  presence  threw  no  cloud  on 
those  hours  of  sunshine.  Seated  adoringly  by 
the  boy's  side,  Margaret  Hamilton  became  in- 
itiated into  the  mysteries  of  bait  and  fishing, 
and  the  lad's  respect  for  his  companion  in- 
creased visibly  when  he  discovered  that  she 
could  not  only  bait  his  hooks  for  him,  but  could 
string  the  fish,  lay  the  festive  board  for  luncheon, 
and  set  it  forth.  This  was  a  playmate  worth 
while.  Raymond  Mortimer,  long  a  slave  to  the 
exactions  of  Lily  Bell,  for  whom  he  had  thank- 
lessly fetched  and  carried,  relaxed  easily  into 
the  comfort  of  man's  more  congenial  sphere, 
and  permitted  himself  to  be  waited  on  by  woman. 

55 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

In  such  and  other  ways  the  month  of  August 
passed.  Margaret  Hamilton,  like  the  happy- 
hearted  child  she  was,  sang  through  the  summer 
days  and  knitted  more  closely  around  her  the 
hearts  of  her  companions. 

With  the  almost  uncanny  wisdom  charac- 
teristic of  her,  she  refrained  from  discussing  Lily 
Bell  with  the  other  members  of  the  family. 
Possibly  she  took  her  cue  from  Raymond  Morti- 
mer, who  himself  spoke  of  her  less  and  less  as 
the  weeks  passed;  but  quite  probably  it  was 
part  of  an  instinct  which  forbids  one  to  discuss 
the  failings  of  one's  friends.  Lily  Bell  was  to 
Margaret  Hamilton  a  blot  on  the  boy's  scutch- 
eon. She  would  not  point  it  out  even  to  him, 
actively  as  her  practical  little  soul  revolted 
against  his  self-deception.  Once,  however,  in 
a  rare  moment  of  candor,  she  unbosomed  her- 
self to  Mr.  Fresco tt. 

"I  don't  like  her  very  well,"  she  said,  re- 
ferring, of  course,  to  Lily  Bell.  "She's  so  silly! 
I  hate  to  pretend  an'  pretend  an'  do  things  we 
don't  want  to  do  when  we  could  have  such  good 
times  just  by  ourselves." 

She  buried  her  nose  in  his  waistcoat  as  she 
spoke  and  sniffed  rather  dismally.  It  had  been 
a  trying  day.  Lily  Bell  had  been  much  en 

56 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

evidence,  and  her  presence  had  weighed  per- 
ceptibly upon  the  spirits  of  the  two  children. 

"Can't  you  get  rid  of  her?"  suggested  the 
man,  shamelessly.  "A  real  meat  little  girl  like 
you  ought  to  do  away  with  a  dream  kid — an 
imaginary  girl — don't  you  think?" 

Margaret  Hamilton  raised  her  head  and  look- 
ed long  into  the  eyes  that  looked  back  at  her. 
The  man  nodded  solemnly. 

"I'd  try  if  I  were  you,"  he  said.  "I'd  try 
mighty  hard.  You  don't  want  her  around. 
She's  spoiling  everything.  Besides,"  he  added, 
half  to  himself,  "it's  time  the  boy  got  over  his 
nonsense." 

Margaret  Hamilton  reflected,  her  small  face 
brightening. 

"Are  you  very,  very  sure  it  wouldn't  be 
wicked?"  she  asked,  hopefully. 

"Yep.     Perfectly  sure.     Go  in  and  win!" 

Greatly  cheered  by  this  official  sanction,  Mar- 
garet Hamilton  the  following  day  made  her 
second  suggestion  of  a  day  &  deux. 

"All  by  ourselves,"  she  repeated,  firmly. 
"An'  not  Lily  Bell,  'cos  she'd  spoil  it.  An' 
you  row  me  to  the  island.  Don't  let's  take 
Thomas." 

This  was  distinctly  wrong.  The  children 
s  57 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

were  not  allowed  to  take  the  boat  save  under 
Thomas's  careful  eye;  but,  as  has  been  pointed 
out,  Margaret  Hamilton  had  her  faults.  Ray- 
mond Mortimer  struggled  weakly  in  the  gulf  of 
temptation,  then  succumbed  and  went  under. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  largely,  "I  will.  We'll 
have  lunch,  too,  and  p'r'aps  I'll  build  a  fire." 

"We'll  play  we're  cave-dwellers,"  contributed 
Margaret  Hamilton,  whose  invention  always 
exceeded  his  own,  and  whose  imagination  had 
recently  been  stimulated  by  Miss  Greene,  who 
occasionally  read  aloud  to  the  children.  "You 
hunt  an'  get  the  food  an'  bring  it  home,  an' 
I'll  cook  it.  You  be  the  big,  brave  man  an' 
I'll  be  your — your  mate,"  she  concluded,  quot- 
ing freely  from  the  latest  interesting  volume  to 
which  she  had  lent  an  ear. 

The  picture  appealed  to  Raymond  Mortimer. 
With  a  manly  stride  he  approached  the  boat, 
helped  her  in,  loosened  it  from  its  moorings, 
and  cast  off.  His  brow  dark  with  care,  he 
loftily  ordered  her  to  steer,  and  spoke  no  more 
until  they  had  safely  made  their  landing. 

Alone  on  their  desert  island,  the  two  children 
faithfully  carried  out  the  programme  of  the 
day.  With  dry  branches  gathered  by  his  mate 
the  intrepid  male  soon  made  a  fire,  and  retreat- 

58 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

ing  hurriedly  to  a  point  comfortably  distant 
from  it,  they  gazed  upon  their  work.  Fishing 
and  the  cleaning  and  cooking  of  their  catch 
filled  the  morning;  and  if,  indeed,  the  cleaning 
is  something  the  mind  would  mercifully  pass 
over,  those  chiefly  concerned  were  satisfied  and 
ate  with  prodigious  appetite. 

"It's  awful  funny,"  said  Raymond  Mortimer, 
comfortably,  as  they  reposed  under  a  tree  after 
their  repast,  "but  when  Lily  Bell  an'  I  used  to 
come  here — " 

He  stopped  and  gazed  apprehensively  behind 
him,  as  if  fearful  that  the  unbidden  guest  was 
even  now  within  hearing.  Apparently  reas- 
sured, he  resumed:  "When  Lily  Bell  an'  I  used 
to  come  we  'most  always  went  to  sleep  after 
awhile.  I — we — got  kind  of  tired  talking,  I 
guess.  But  when  you  an'  I  talk  I  don't  get 
tired." 

Margaret  Hamilton  flushed  with  delight,  but 
an  excess  of  maidenly  modesty  overcame  her 
at  the  same  moment. 

"Why  don't  you?"  she  inquired,  coyly. 

"  'Cos  I  like  you  better." 

Margaret  Hamilton  gasped,  sputtered,  looked 
around  her.  Everything  was  in  its  place ;  there 
had  been  no  submarine  upheaval.  The  boy 

59 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

was  there  and  he  had  said  this  thing,  the  full 
meaning  of  which  burst  suddenly  upon  her. 
Rising  to  her  feet,  she  hurled  herself  upon  him 
with  the  impetuosity  of  her  intense  nature. 

"Do  you  really?"  she  gasped  and  gurgled. 
"Do  you?  Oh,  do  you?  Oh,  Ray,  I'm  so 
glad!" 

And  she  kissed  him! 

Disengaging  himself  with  dignity  from  the 
clinging  embrace  of  the  maiden,  the  outraged 
youth  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Don't  you  ever  do  that  again,  Margaret 
Hamilton  Perry,"  he  said,  slowly,  and  with 
awful  sternness.  "Don't  you  ever.  Lily  Bell 
never,  never  did  such  a  thing!" 

She  retreated,  but  unabashed. 

"It's  'cause  I  was  so  glad,"  she  said,  happily. 
"Real  girls  always  do;  they're  like  that.  But 
I  won't  any  more.  You  like  me  best,  just  the 
same,  don't  you?"  she  inquired,  anxiously. 

He  came  cautiously  nearer. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  he  said,  coldly,  "but  don't  you 
try  that  any  more,  or  I  won't!" 

Then  they  talked  of  cave-dwellers,  and  of  the 
pleasant  warmth  of  an  open-air  fire  on  an  Au- 
gust day,  and  of  marvellous  things  they  would 
do  during  the  coming  weeks.  And  the  ab- 

60 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

sorption  of  their  conversation  was  such  that 
when  the  faithful  Thomas,  having  rowed  after 
them,  stealthily  approached  and  smote  the  boy 
upon  the  back,  they  yelled  in  startled  unison. 

That  no  rancor  lingered  in  the  mind  of  Ray- 
mond Mortimer  toward  the  too-demonstrative 
Margaret  Hamilton  was  proved  by  the  careless 
remark  he  made  to  his  father  when,  some  days 
later,  that  gentleman  uttered  a  jocund  inquiry 
as  to  the  health  of  Lily  Bell. 

His  son  stared  at  him  for  an  instant,  as  one 
who  seeks  to  recall  the  snows  of  yester-year. 

"Oh,"  he  said,  at  last,  "I  haven't  seen  her 
for  a  long  time.  She  doesn't  come  round  now." 

Then,  as  his  father  grinned  widely  over  these 
melancholy  tidings,  the  son  flushed  crimson. 

"Well,  I  don't  care,"  he  said,  hotly.  "It's 
all  your  fault.  Didn't  you  tell  me  I  had  to 
'muse  Margaret?  Didn't  you?  Well — I  am. 
I  ain't  got  time  for  two.  An',  anyhow,"  he 
concluded,  with  Adamitic  instinct,  "Lily  Bell 
stopped  coming  herself!" 

The  exorcism  of  Lily  Bell  was  complete. 
Unlike  more  substantial  Lily  Bells  of  larger 
growth,  she  had  known  how  to  make  her  dis- 
appearance coincide  with  a  wish  to  that  effect 
on  the  part  of  her  gentleman  friend. 

61 


Ill 

HER  LAST  DAY 

FOR  some  time — possibly  an  hour  or  more — 
she  sat  perfectly  still,  staring  at  a  waver- 
ing line  made  on  the  floor  by  a  stray  sunbeam 
which  had  forced  its  way  through  the  window 
of  her  hotel  sitting-room.  At  first  she  looked 
unseeingly,  with  the  dull,  introspective  gaze  of 
the  melancholic.  Then  she  began  to  notice 
the  thing,  and  to  fear  it,  and  to  watch  for  out- 
lines of  a  quivering  human  face,  and  to  tremble 
a  little.  Surely  there  had  been  a  face  —  she 
thought  vaguely,  and  puckered  her  brow  in  an 
effort  to  remember.  It  was  half  an  hour  before 
she  realized  what  it  was,  and  the  passing  of 
fifteen  minutes  more  had  been  ticked  off  by  a 
clock  on  the  table  near  her  when  she  lifted  her 
glance  enough  to  follow  the  beam  along  the 
floor,  up  the  wall,  to  the  pane  where  it  had  en- 
tered. She  rose  suddenly.  It  was  long  since 
she  had  made  a  consciously  voluntary  move- 

62 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

ment,  and  she  knew  this.  She  drew  a  deep 
breath  as  she  stood  up,  and  almost  on  the  in- 
stant she  experienced  a  life-giving  sensation  of 
poise  and  freedom.  The  weight  fell  from  her 
feet,  the  blackness  in  which  she  had  lived  for 
weeks  unwrapped  itself  from  around  her  like  a 
departing  fog,  her  lax  muscles  tightened.  She 
groped  her  way  to  the  window  and  stood  there 
for  a  moment,  resting  her  cheek  against  the 
cool  pane  and  gazing  up  at  the  sky.  Presently 
her  eyes  dropped  to  the  level  of  a  distant  water- 
line,  and  she  saw  the  river  and  the  trees  that 
fringed  its  distant  bank,  and  the  swiftly  moving 
boats  on  its  surface. 

She  was  better.  She  knew  all  that  this 
meant,  how  much  and  how  little.  For  an  in- 
terval, long  or  short,  as  it  should  happen  to  be, 
she  was  again  a  rational  human  being.  She 
abruptly  swerved  around  from  the  window  and 
swept  the  room  with  her  eyes,  recognizing  it  as 
the  one  she  was  occupying  before  she  "went 
under,"  as  she  put  it  to  herself,  and  trying, 
from  association  with  the  familiar  objects 
around  her,  to  form  some  idea  of  the  length  of 
this  attack. 

At  the  beginning  of  her  breakdown  the  in- 
tervals between  intelligent  consciousness  and 

63 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

insanity  had  been  long.  She  was  herself,  or  was 
able  to  keep  herself  fairly  in  hand,  the  greater 
part  of  the  time,  and  chaos,  when  it  came, 
lasted  only  for  a  few  days  or  weeks.  Recently 
this  condition  had  been  reversed.  She  had  lost 
knowledge  of  time,  but  she  felt  that  centuries 
must  have  passed  since  those  last  flying,  blessed 
hours  when  she  knew  herself  at  least  for  what 
she  was.  She  grasped  now  at  her  returning 
reason,  with  a  desperate,  shuddering  little  moan, 
which  she  quickly  stifled.  Some  one  must  be 
near,  she  remembered,  on  guard:  her  nurse,  or 
a  hotel  maid  if  the  nurse  was  taking  one  of  her 
infrequent  outings.  Whoever  was  in  charge  of 
her  must  be  in  the  next  room,  for  the  door  was 
open  between  the  two.  The  nurse  would  wel- 
come her  return,  the  patient  reflected.  It  was 
her  habit — a  singularly  pathetic  habit,  the  nurse 
had  found  it  —  to  refer  always  to  her  attacks 
as  "absences,"  and  to  temporary  recovery  as 
"returns." 

She  moved  toward  the  open  door  and  then 
stopped,  feeling  suddenly  that  she  was  not  yet 
ready  to  talk  to  any  one,  even  the  nurse,  for 
whom  she  had  a  casually  friendly  feeling  based 
on  dependence  and  continued  association.  She 
wished  to  think — dear  God,  to  be  able  to  think 

64 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

again! — and  there  seemed  so  much  thinking  to 
be  done  and  so  little  time  in  which  to  do  it. 
Her  heart  dropped  a  beat  as  she  realized  that. 
On  how  much  time  could  she  safely  count,  she 
wondered.  A  week?  A  few  days?  It  had 
never  been  less  than  a  week,  until  the  last  epi- 
sode. She  turned  from  the  thought  of  that 
with  a  sick  shudder,  but  memory  dragged  it  up 
and  ruthlessly  held  it  before  her — the  hour,  the 
moment,  the  very  place  she  was  sitting  when  it 
occurred.  She  had  been  talking  to  a  friend, 
who  unconsciously  said  something  that  annoyed 
and  excited  her.  She  saw  now  that  friend's 
face  growing  dim  before  her  eyes — at  first  puz- 
zled, then  frightened,  then  writhing  and  twist- 
ing into  hideous  shapes,  she  thought,  until  in 
her  horror  she  had  struck  at  it.  She  must  not 
think  of  that,  she  knew,  as  she  set  her  teeth  and 
pulled  herself  up  short.  She  had  a  will  of  ex- 
traordinary strength,  her  physicians  and  nurses 
had  conceded,  and  she  resolved  that  it  should 
serve  her  now.  With  grim  determination  she 
pieced  together  the  patches  of  memory  left  to 
her.  She  had  had  three  days  then — three  short 
days.  She  dared  not  count  on  even  that  much 
respite  now,  though  she  might  possibly  have  it 
and  more.  But  one  day — surely  Providence 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

would  let  her  have  one  day — one  last  day.  Her 
friends  and  the  specialists  had  begun  to  talk  of 
asylums.  She  had  heard  whispers  of  them  be- 
fore she  succumbed  to  this  last  attack;  and 
though  her  memory  of  what  occurred  in  it  was 
mercifully  vague,  she  dimly  recalled  struggles 
and  the  shrieks  of  some  one  in  agony — her  own 
shrieks,  she  knew  now,  though  she  had  not  known 
it  then.  It  all  meant  that  she  was  getting  worse 
and  more  "difficult."  It  all  meant  chronic  in- 
validism,  constant  care,  eventual  confinement. 

Her  brain  was  now  abnormally  clear,  super- 
naturally  active.  It  worked  with  an  eager  def- 
erence, as  if  striving  to  atone  for  the  periods 
when  it  failed  her.  The  little  clock  struck  ten. 
It  was  early — she  had  a  long  day  before  her,  a 
beautiful  spring  day;  for  she  noticed  now  the 
tender  green  of  the  leaves  and  the  youth  of  the 
grass.  How  interesting  it  would  be,  she  re- 
flected, idly,  to  go  out  into  the  free,  busy  world 
and  mingle  with  human  beings,  and  walk  the 
city  streets  and  come  into  touch  with  life  and 
the  living.  She  would  go,  she  would  spend  the 
day  that  way;  but,  alas!  the  nurse  would  go, 
too  —  cool,  kind,  professional,  alert,  quietly 
watchful.  If  she  could  in  any  way  elude  her 
and  go  alone.  .  .  . 

66 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

Her  eyes  narrowed  and  took  on  a  look  of 
cunning  as  she  turned  them  sidewise  toward  the 
open  door.  As  stealthily  as  a  cat  she  crept  to 
it  and  looked  in.  On  a  divan  in  the  farthest 
corner  the  nurse  lay  stretched  in  a  deep  sleep, 
whose  unpremeditatedness  was  shown  by  the 
book  which  lay  on  the  floor,  dropped,  evidently, 
from  her  suddenly  relaxed  fingers.  The  patient 
retreated  as  noiselessly  as  she  had  advanced, 
and,  going  to  a  mantel-mirror  in  her  sitting- 
room,  turned  on  her  reflection  there  a  long  and 
frightened  look.  She  saw  a  woman  of  thirty- 
five,  thin,  pale,  haggard,  high-bred.  Her  hair 
had  been  arranged  in  accordance  with  the  nurse's 
conception  of  comfort  and  economy  of  time,  and 
though  her  gown  was  perfect  in  its  fit  and  tailor- 
made  severity,  the  lace  at  her  neck  and  in  the 
sleeves  of  her  silk  waist  was  not  wholly  fresh. 
Her  lips  curled  as  she  looked.  This  was  she, 
Alice  Stansbury,  the  wreck  of  a  woman  who  had 
once  had  health  and  beauty  and  wealth  and 
position.  The  last  two  were  in  a  degree  left 
to  her,  but  what  difference  did  it  make  how  she 
looked,  she  asked  herself,  harshly.  Even  as  the 
thought  came,  however,  she  took  off  her  waist 
and  sewed  clean  lace  cuffs  on  the  sleeves,  re- 
placing the  collar  with  a  fresh  one.  Then  she 
67 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

took  down  her  hair  and  rearranged  it,  rapidly 
but  with  care.  It  was  a  simple  matter  to 
change  her  slippers  for  walking-boots,  and  to 
find  her  hat  and  coat  and  gloves  in  their  old 
places.  Miss  Manuel,  the  nurse,  was  reliable, 
she  told  herself  again  as  she  put  them  on,  feel- 
ing a  moment's  gratitude  to  the  woman  for 
trying  to  keep  her  "up,"  even  during  her  "ab- 
sences," to  something  approaching  the  stand- 
ard a  gentlewoman's  birth  and  breeding  de- 
manded. Her  money,  or  at  least  a  large  part 
of  it,  for  she  did  not  stop  to  count  it,  she  found 
in  the  despatch-box  where  she  had  put  it  on 
their  arrival  in  New  York,  and  the  key  was  with 
others  on  a  ring  in  the  private  drawer  of  her 
writing-desk.  Hurriedly  she  selected  several 
large  bills  and  put  them  into  a  silver  purse, 
pressing  it  deep  into  the  pocket  of  her  walking- 
skirt  with  some  vague  fear  that  she  might  lose 
it.  Then  she  replaced  the  box  and  locked  the 
desk,  dropping  the  key  in  her  pocket.  Her 
movements  were  extraordinarily  swift  and  noise- 
less. In  twenty  minutes  from  the  time  she 
had  looked  in  on  the  nurse  she  was  ready  for 
the  street. 

A  second  glance  into  the  inner  room  showed 
her  that  Miss  Manuel  was  still  sleeping.     She 

68 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

regarded  her  distrustfully  for  an  instant,  and 
on  a  sudden  impulse  sat  down  at  her  desk  and 
wrote  a  message  on  a  sheet  of  the  hotel  paper. 

"  I  am  going  out  for  the  day.  /  will  return  to-night . 
Do  nothing,  consult  no  one.  I  am  quite  able  to  take 
care  of  myself.  Don't  make  a  sensation  for  the  news- 
papers! ALICE  STANSBURY." 

"That  last  sentence  will  quiet  her,"  she  re- 
flected, with  cool  satisfaction,  as  she  pinned  the 
note  to  the  side  of  the  mirror.  "She  won't 
care  to  advertise  far  and  wide  that  she  has 
temporarily  mislaid  a  patient!" 

The  most  difficult  thing  of  all  remained  to 
be  done.  The  outer  door  of  her  own  room  was 
locked  and  the  key  was  missing.  To  leave  the 
apartment  she  must  pass  through  the  room 
where  Miss  Manuel  lay  asleep.  She  held  her 
breath,  but  crossed  in  safety,  though  Miss 
Manuel  stirred  and  murmured  something,  as  if 
subconsciously  warned  of  danger.  Miss  Stans- 
bury  closed  the  door  noiselessly  behind  her  and 
stood  silent  for  a  moment  in  the  hall,  glancing 
about  her  and  planning  the  wisest  method  of 
getting  away.  She  knew  better  than  to  enter 
any  of  the  hotel  elevators.  While  there  was 
no  certainty  that  she  would  be  detained  if  she 

69 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

did,  there  had  been  a  great  deal  of  interest  in 
her  when  she  arrived  at  the  hotel,  and  there 
was  every  chance  that  some  employe"  might 
think  it  a  wise  precaution  to  ask  her  nurse  a 
question  or  two  after  she  departed.  Then  Miss 
Manuel  would  be  hot  upon  her  trail,  and  her 
day  would  be  spoiled.  She  crept  cautiously 
along  the  rear  halls,  keeping  out  of  sight  on 
each  floor  when  the  elevators  were  passing,  and 
meeting  only  strangers  and  one  preoccupied 
porter.  Her  rooms  were  on  the  fifth  floor,  but 
she  descended  the  four  flights  of  stairs  in  safety, 
and,  going  triumphantly  out  of  the  rear  entrance 
of  the  hotel,  found  herself  in  the  quiet  street  on 
which  it  opened.  The  great  building  was  on  a 
corner,  and  as  she  crossed  its  threshold  she  saw 
a  trolley-car  passing  along  the  avenue  at  her 
right.  On  a  quick  impulse  she  signalled.  When 
it  stopped  she  entered  and  seated  herself  in  a 
corner,  surveying  her  fellow  -  passengers  with 
seeming  unconcern,  though  her  breath  came  fast. 
She  was  safe;  she  was  off !  She  decided  to  ride 
on  until  she  made  her  plans  and  knew  in  more 
detail  what  should  be  done  with  this  gift  of  the 
gods,  a  day  that  was  all  her  own. 

It  had  been  a  long  time  since  she  had  been 
alone,  she  suddenly  remembered.    There  ha4 

70 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

been  outings,  of  course,  and  shopping  expedi- 
tions and  the  like,  but  always  Miss  Manuel 
or  one  of  her  kind  had  been  at  her  elbow — 
sometimes  professionally  cheerful,  sometimes 
professionally  grave,  but  at  all  times  profes- 
sionally watchful.  The  woman  exulted  fiercely 
in  her  new-found  liberty.  She  had  hours  be- 
fore her — free,  glorious  hours.  She  would  use 
them,  fill  them,  squander  them  in  a  prodigal 
spending,  following  every  impulse,  indulging 
every  desire,  for  they  were  hers  and  they  were 
her  last.  In  the  depths  of  her  brain  lay  a  reso- 
lution as  silent,  as  deadly,  as  a  coiled  serpent 
waiting  to  strike.  She  would  enter  no  asylums, 
she  would  endure  no  more  "absences,"  she 
would  have  no  more  supervision,  no  more  con- 
sultations, no  more  half  -  concealed  fear  of 
friends,  no  more  pity  from  strangers.  There 
was  a  way  of  escaping  all  this  forever,  and  she 
knew  it  and  would  take  it,  though  it  led  across 
the  dim  threshold  over  which  she  could  never 
return. 

The  car  hummed  as  it  sped  along.  At  a  dis- 
tance she  saw  an  entrance  to  Central  Park,  and 
from  the  inside  the  branches  of  trees  seemed 
to  wave  a  salute  to  her  in  honor  of  her  freedom. 
She  signalled  to  the  conductor  and  left  the  car, 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

retracing  her  steps  until  she  entered  the  Park. 
She  was  far  up- town,  near  the  northern  end  of 
it,  and  the  paths,  warm  in  the  spring  sunshine, 
were  almost  deserted.  For  a  while  she  strolled 
idly  about,  her  senses  revelling  in  the  freshness 
and  beauty  around  her,  in  the  green  vistas  that 
opened  to  right  and  left,  and  the  soft  breeze 
that  fanned  her  face.  Children,  riding  tri- 
cycles or  rolling  hoops,  raced  past  her;  and 
once,  after  she  had  walked  almost  an  hour,  a 
small  boy  of  four  slipped  his  hand  into  her 
gloved  one  and  trotted  beside  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  the  open  scandal  of  his  nurse.  She 
smiled  down  at  him,  pleased  by  the  touch  of  his 
little  fingers.  When  he  left,  as  abruptly  as  he 
had  joined  her,  and  in  response  to  a  stentorian 
Irish  summons  from  the  rear,  she  felt  a  rather 
surprising  degree  of  regret.  The  momentary 
contact  had  given  her  a  pleasant  sense  of 
companionship;  for  the  first  time  it  came  to 
her  that  it  would  be  better  to  have  a  sharer 
of  this  day  of  days — no  hireling,  no  scientific- 
eyed  caretaker,  but  a  little  child  or  a  friend, 
some  one,  any  one,  whom  she  liked  and  who 
liked  her,  and  who,  like  the  little  boy,  did  not 
know  the  truth  about  her. 

Her  spirits  dropped  as  suddenly  as  they  had 
72 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

risen,  and  she  felt  tired  and  disappointed.  Al- 
most unconsciously  she  dropped  on  a  bench  to 
rest,  her  eyes  still  following  the  figure  of  the 
child,  now  almost  out  of  sight  around  a  distant 
bend.  The  bench  was  off  the  path,  and  she 
had  been  too  preoccupied  when  she  sat  down  to 
notice  that  it  had  another  occupant;  but  as 
the  figure  of  her  little  friend  vanished  and  she 
turned  her  eyes  away  with  a  sigh,  she  found 
herself  looking  into  those  of  a  man.  He  was 
very  young,  hardly  more  than  a  boy,  and  he 
occupied  the  far  end  of  the  seat,  one  arm  thrown 
across  the  back  of  it,  his  knees  crossed,  and  his 
body  so  turned  that  he  faced  her.  The  thing 
she  saw  in  his  eyes  held  her  own  fastened  to 
them,  at  first  in  surprise,  then  in  sudden  com- 
prehension. It  was  hunger.  With  a  long  look 
she  took  him  in  —  the  pinched  pallor  of  his 
smooth,  handsome  young  face,  the  feverish 
brightness  of  his  gray  eyes,  the  shabbiness  of 
his  well-made,  well-fitting  clothes,  even  the 
rent  in  the  side  of  one  of  his  patent-leather 
shoes.  His  linen  was  clean,  and  his  cuffs  were 
fastened  with  cheap  black  links;  she  reflected 
instinctively  that  he  had  pawned  those  whose 
place  they  obviously  filled,  and  then  her  mind 
returned  at  once  to  her  first  discovery,  that  he 
6  73 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

was  hungry.  There  was  no  mistaking  it.  She 
had  never  seen  hunger  in  a  face  before,  but  she 
recognized  it  now.  He  had  taken  off  his  hat 
and  dropped  it  on  the  bench  beside  him.  His 
brown  hair  was  short  and  wavy,  and  one  lock 
on  his  left  temple  was  white.  He  had  been 
writing  a  note,  or  possibly  an  advertisement  for 
work,  with  a  stub  of  lead-pencil  on  a  scrap  of 
paper  resting  on  his  knee,  and  now  he  suddenly 
raised  his  eyes — either  in  an  abstracted  search 
for  the  right  word  or  because  her  appearance 
had  startled  him. 

Without  hesitation  she  spoke  to  him. 

"Pardon  me,"  she  said,  impersonally.  "May 
I  ask  you  some  questions?" 

He  looked  at  her,  and  the  understanding  of 
his  situation  revealed  in  her  glance  brought  the 
blood  to  his  face.  He  straightened  himself,  his 
lips  parting  for  a  reply,  but  she  gave  him  no 
time  to  speak.  . 

"I  am  a  stranger  here,"  she  continued,  "and 
New  York  is  not  always  kind  to  strangers. 
You  seem  to  be  unhappy,  too.  I  wonder  if 
we  cannot  help  each  other." 

He  smiled  with  an  unyouthful  bitterness. 

"I'm  afraid  I'm  not  much  use  —  to  myself 
or  any  one  else,"  he  answered,  with  hard  delib- 

74 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

eration.  Then  his  face  underwent  a  change  as 
he  looked  at  hers  and  read  in  it,  inexperienced 
as  he  was,  some  of  the  tragic  writing  of  Fate's 
inexorable  hand.  His  voice  showed  his  altered 
mood. 

"Of  course,"  he  added,  quickly,  "if  there's 
really  anything  I  can  do.  I  know  the  town 
well  enough.  Perhaps  I  can  help  you  if  you 
want  to  get  anywhere.  What  is  it  you  would 
like?" 

Her  face,  under  the  sudden  idea  which  came 
to  her,  could  hardly  be  said  to  brighten,  but 
it  changed,  becoming  less  of  a  mask,  more  hu- 
man. She  felt  a  thrill  of  unaccustomed  interest, 
less  in  him  than  in  the  plan  which  he  uncon- 
sciously suggested.  Here  at  last  was  some- 
thing to  do.  Here  was  a  companion  who  did 
not  know  her.  He  was  watching  her  closely 
now,  and  it  came  to  him  for  the  first  time,  with 
a  sense  of  surprise,  that  this  strange  woman 
who  had  spoken  to  him  was  not  old,  and  was 
even  attractive. 

"I  think  you  can  help  me,  if  you  will,"  she 
went  on,  quietly.  "As  I  have  said,  I  am  a 
stranger  in  New  York.  I  have  never  seen  any- 
thing of  it  except  the  streets  I  passed  through 
this  morning  between  the  Park  and  my  hotel. 

75 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

But  I've  always  wanted  to  see  it,  and  to-day  is 
my  first  and  only  opportunity,  for  I  am  going 
away  to-night." 

He  surveyed  her  thoughtfully.  The  shadow 
had  returned  to  his  face,  and  it  was  plain  that 
under  his  air  of  courteous  interest  stirred  the 
self-despair  she  had  surprised  in  her  first  look 
at  him. 

"Of  course  I  can  make  out  a  sight-seer's  list 
for  you,"  he  said,  when  she  stopped,  "and  I  will, 
with  pleasure.  I  think  you'd  better  drop  into 
the  Metropolitan  Art  Galleries  while  you're  in 
the  Park.  I'll  write  the  other  places  in  their 
street  order  going  down-town,  so  you  won't 
waste  time  doubling  on  your  tracks.  Have 
you  a  bit  of  paper?" 

He  began  to  fumble  in  his  own  pockets  as  he 
spoke,  but  vaguely,  as  one  who  knows  the 
search  is  vain.  She  shook  her  head. 

"No,"  she  told  him,  "and  I  don't  want  one. 
That  isn't  my  idea  at  all — a  list  of  places  to  look 
up  all  alone  and  a  dismal  round  of  dreary  sight- 
seeing. What  I  would  like  " — she  smiled  almost 
demurely — "is  a  'personally  conducted'  tour. 
Are  you  very  busy?" 

He  flushed  again  and  looked  at  her,  this  time 
with  a  veiled  suspicion  in  his  glance.  She  met 

76 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

it  with  such  calm  appreciation  that  it  changed 
to  one  of  surprised  doubt.  She  knew  perfectly 
what  was  passing  in  his  mind,  and  it  caused  her 
no  more  concern  than  the  puzzled  silence  of  a 
child  who  has  heard  a  new  word.  She  went  on 
as  complacently  as  if  he  were  the  little  boy  who 
had  walked  beside  her  a  few  moments  before. 

"In  Paris  and  London,"  she  remarked,  "one 
can  engage  a  guide,  a  gentleman,  for  a  day  at 
a  fixed  price.  Probably  there  are  such  guides 
here  in  New  York,  if  I  knew  where  they  were 
to  be  found  and  had  the  time  to  look  for  them. 
You  are  much  younger  than  I  am.  You  might 
almost  be  my  son!  Moreover,  you  will  not 
mind  my  saying  that  I  fancied  you  were  un- 
employed and  possibly  were  looking  for  em- 
ployment. You  can  hardly  help  seeing  the 
definite  connection  in  all  this." 

His  eyes  met  hers  for  a  moment  and  then 
dropped.  He  blushed  boyishly. 

"I  see  you're  trying  to  help  me,"  he  mur- 
mured, apologetically. 

She  went  on  as  if  she  had  not  heard  him. 

"  Let  me  employ  you  for  the  day.  I  need 
amusement,  interest,  occupation  —  more  than 
you  can  imagine.  I  am  in  the  same  mood,  as 
far  as  desolation  and  discouragement  go,  that 

77 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

you  are  in.  I  must  be  about,  seeing  people  and 
diverting  my  mind.  We  can  each  supply  the 
other  with  one  thing  that  we  need.  I  have 
money.  To  earn  a  little  of  that  professionally, 
by  a  humane  service,  should  really  appeal  to 
you." 

Something  in  her  voice  as  she  uttered  the 
last  words  made  him  turn  toward  her  again. 
As  he  looked,  his  young  face  softened.  She 
waited  in  silence  for  what  he  would  say. 

He  sat  up  and  straightened  his  shoulders  with 
a  quick  gesture. 

"You  are  right,"  he  said,  "but  I'm  awfully 
afraid  you'll  get  the  worst  of  it.  I'm  not  an 
ornamental  escort  for  a  lady,  as  you  see."  He 
looked  at  his  broken  shoe,  and  then  at  her. 
Her  expression  showed  entire  indifference  to 
the  point  he  had  raised. 

"We  will  consider  it  settled,"  she  said.  "You 
will  take  my  purse  and  pay  our  joint  expenses. 
I  think,"  she  went  on,  as  she  handed  it  to  him, 
"we'll  omit  the  Metropolitan.  After  miles  of 
the  Louvre  and  the  Luxembourg  and  the  Vat- 
ican, I  don't  seem  to  crave  miles  of  that.  Sup- 
pose we  take  a  cab  and  drive  round.  I  want  to 
see  the  streets,  and  the  crowds,  and  the  different 
types  of  men  and  women,  and  the  slums.  I 

78 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

used  to  be  interested  in  Settlement  work,  long 
ago." 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said.  "You  have  won 
your  case.  I  will  serve  you  to  the  best  of  my 
ability.  But  as  a  preliminary  I  insist  on  count- 
ing the  money  in  this  purse,  and  on  your  seeing 
that  my  accounts  are  all  right." 

"Do  as  you  like  about  that,"  she  replied,  in- 
differently, but  her  glance  rested  on  him  with 
a  glint  of  approval. 

He  deliberately  counted  the  bills.  "There 
are  three  hundred  and  forty  dollars,"  he  said, 
replacing  them. 

She  nodded  absently.  She  had  sunk  into  a 
momentary  reverie,  from  which  he  did  not 
arouse  her  until  she  suddenly  looked  at  her 
watch.  "Why,  it's  after  twelve!"  she  ex- 
claimed, with  more  animation  than  she  had 
yet  shown.  "  We'll  go  to  Delmonico's  or  Sher- 
ry's for  luncheon,  and  make  our  programme 
while  we're  there." 

He  started,  and  leaned  forward,  fixing  his 
eyes  on  her,  but  she  did  not  meet  them.  She 
replaced  her  watch  in  her  belt  with  a  successful 
assumption  of  abstraction,  but  she  was  full  of 
doubt  as  to  how  he  would  take  this  first  prop- 
osition. The  next  instant  the  bench  trembled 

79 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

under  the  force  with  which  he  had  dropped  back 
on  it. 

"God!"  he  cried,  hoarsely,  "it's  all  a  put-up 
job  to  feed  me  because  you  suspect  I'm  hun- 
gry! No,  you  don't  even  suspect — you  know 
I'm  hungry!" 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  the  gesture 
silenced  him. 

"Be  quiet,"  she  said.  "Suppose  you  are 
hungry?  What  of  it?  Is  it  a  disgrace  to  be 
hungry?  Men  and  women  deliberately  culti- 
vate the  condition!  Come,"  she  ended,  as  she 
rose  abruptly,  "keep  to  your  bargain.  We 
both  need  our  luncheon." 

He  replaced  the  purse  in  the  inside-pocket  of 
his  coat,  and  rose.  They  walked  a  few  moments 
without  a  word.  She  noticed  how  well  he  car- 
ried himself  and  how  muscular  and  athletic  his 
figure  appeared  even  in  its  shabby  clothes.  As 
they  strolled  toward  the  nearest  exit  she  talked 
of  the  Park,  and  asked  him  a  few  matter-of- 
fact  questions,  to  which  he  replied  with  grow- 
ing animation.  "I  can't  give  you  figures  and 
statistics,  I'm  afraid,"  he  added,  smiling. 

She  shook  her  head.  "It  would  be  sad  if 
you  could,"  she  said.  "Give  me  anything  but 
information.  As  for  statistics,  I've  a  constitu- 

80 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

tional  distaste  for  them.     Where  can  we  find 
a  cab?" 

"We  won't  find  a  cab,"  he  explained,  with 
an  authoritative  independence  which  somehow 
appealed  to  her.  "We'll  take  this  trolley-car 
and  ride  to  within  a  short  walk  of  Delmonico's. 
After  luncheon  we'll  find  cabs  at  every  turn." 

He  helped  her  into  a  car  as  he  spoke,  and 
paid  their  fare  from  her  purse,  flushing  as  he 
had  to  change  a  five-dollar  note  to  do  so.  The 
simple  act  emphasized  for  him,  as  no  words 
could  have  done,  his  peculiar  relation  to  this 
strange  woman,  whom  he  had  never  seen  until 
half  an  hour  ago.  Balancing  the  purse  in  his 
hand,  he  glanced  at  her,  taking  in  almost  un- 
consciously the  tragic  droop  of  her  lips,  the 
prematurely  gray  locks  in  her  dark  hair,  and 
the  unchanging  gloom  of  her  brown  eyes. 

"  How  do  you  know  I  won't  drop  off  the  car 
at  some  corner  and  abscond  with  this?"  he 
asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

She  looked  at  him  calmly. 

"I  think  I  know  you  will  not.  But  if  you 
did  it  would  hurt  me." 

"Would  it  spoil  your  day?" 

"Yes,"  she  conceded,  "it  would  spoil  my 
day." 

81 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Well,"  he  announced,  judiciously,  "you 
shall  not  have  to  reproach  me  with  anything  of 
that  kind.  Your  day  shall  be  a  success  if  I 
can  make  it  so." 

His  manner  was  more  than  gentle.  His 
mood  was  one  of  gratitude  and  pleasant  ex- 
pectation. He  was  getting  to  know  her  and 
was  sorry  for  her — possibly  because  she  trusted 
him  and  was  sorry  for  him.  She  was  not  the 
companion  he  would  have  chosen  for  a  day's 
outing,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  she  would  be  any 
too  cheerful;  but  he  would  serve  her  loyally, 
wherever  this  queer  adventure  led,  and  he  was 
young  enough  to  appreciate  its  possibilities. 
Inwardly  she  was  amused  by  his  little  affecta- 
tion of  experience,  of  ripe  age  addressing  youth, 
but  it  was  so  unconsciously  done,  so  uncon- 
querably youthful,  that  it  added  to  the  interest 
he  had  aroused  in  her.  She  liked,  too,  his  fresh- 
ness and  boyish  beauty,  and  his  habit  of  assert- 
ing his  sense  of  honor  above  everything.  Above 
all  things,  she  liked  his  ignorance  of  her.  To 
him,  she  was  merely  a  woman  like  other  women ; 
there  was  a  satisfaction  to  her  in  that  thought 
as  deep  as  it  was  indescribable.  The  only  other 
occupants  of  the  car  were  a  messenger-boy,  lost 
to  his  surroundings  in  a  paper-covered  novel, 

82 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  a  commercial  traveller  whose  brow  was 
corrugated  by  mental  strain  over  a  note- 
book. 

"  There  are  some  things  I  would  like  to  do  in 
New  York,"  she  confided.  "We  will  do  them 
now — lunch  at  Delmonico's,  go  sight-seeing  all 
the  afternoon,  dine  at  Sherry's,  and  go  to  the 
theatre  this  evening.  Which  is  the  best  play 
in  town?" 

"  Well — er — that,  you  know,  depends  on  what 
you  like,"  hazarded  the  boy,  sagely.  "Do  you 
prefer  comedy,  tragedy,  or  melodrama?" 

She  reflected. 

"Something  light,"  she  decided;  "something 
airy  and  effervescent — with  no  problems  or  even 
thoughts  in  it." 

His  eyes  twinkled  as  he  smiled  at  her.  If 
these  were  her  tastes,  she  was  getting  on,  he 
reflected,  and  the  vista  of  the  long  day  before 
him  offered  attractions. 

'"Peter  Pan'!"  he  exclaimed.  "That's  all 
those  things.  I've  not  seen  it,  but  I've  read 
the  criticisms,  and  I  know  a  fellow  who  has 
gone  five  times." 

"Testimony  enough,"  agreed  his  companion. 
"We'll  go  to  '  Peter  Pan.'  Now  tell  me  some- 
thing about  yourself." 

83 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Is  that  in  the  bond?" 

"No.     That  would  be  a  gift." 

"  I'd — I'd  rather  not,  if  you  don't  mind." 

He  indulged  in  his  inevitable  painful  blush 
as  he  spoke,  but  she  stared  at  him  without  pity 
and  with  a  sudden  hauteur  which  gave  him  a 
glimpse  of  another  side  of  her  complex  nature. 
This  woman  who  picked  up  strange  youths  in 
the  street  and  spent  the  day  with  them  was 
obviously  accustomed  to  unquestioning  defer- 
ence from  others.  He  edged  away  from  her, 
firm  but  unhappy. 

"You're  right,"  she  said,  at  last.  "We'll 
add  a  clause  to  our  compact  and  play  we're 
disembodied  spirits.  Neither  of  us  will  ask  the 
other  a  personal  question." 

"Agreed,  and  thank  you.  It's  not  that  I 
wouldn't  be  flattered,  you  know,  by  your  in- 
terest, and  all  that,"  he  went  on,  awkwardly. 
"  It's  only  because  it's  such  a  beastly  harrowing 
recital  and  shows  me  up  in  such — such  an  in- 
efficient light.  It  would  depress  you,  and  it 
couldn't  do  me  any  good.  The  things  about 
myself  are  what  I  want  to  get  away  from — for 
a  while." 

They  were  soon  at  Delmonico's,  and  she  fol- 
lowed him  into  the  main  dining-room,  where 

84 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

she  selected  a  table  at  a  window  looking  out 
on  the  Avenue.  The  head  waiter  glanced  at 
him,  hesitated,  surveyed  her,  and  showed  that 
he  was  indeed  a  good  servant  who  knew  his  own. 
He  hovered  over  them  with  deepening  interest 
as  they  scanned  the  menu. 

The  boy  smiled  at  his  companion,  trying  not 
to  notice  the  smell  of  the  food  around  them, 
nor  the  horrible  sinking  sensation  which  over- 
whelmed him  at  intervals.  A  sickening  fear 
swept  over  him  that  he  would  faint  before 
luncheon  came — faint  on  a  lady's  hands,  and 
from  starvation  at  that!  He  plunged  into  con- 
versation with  reckless  vivacity. 

When  the  waiter  came  with  the  oysters  she 
set  the  example  of  eating  them  at  once.  Her 
companion  followed  it  in  leisurely  fashion.  She 
told  herself  that  he  was  a  thoroughbred,  and 
that  she  had  not  been  mistaken  in  him,  but  she 
would  almost  have  preferred  to  see  him  eat 
wolfishly.  His  restraint  got  on  her  nerves.  She 
could  not  eat,  though  she  made  a  pretence  of  it. 
When  he  had  eaten  his  soup  with  the  same  care- 
ful deliberation,  a  little  color  came  into  his  face. , 
She  observed  this,  and  her  tension  relaxed. 

"The  last  time  I  was  here,"  he  said,  absently, 
"was  two  years  ago.     One  of  the  fellows  at 
85 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

New  Haven  had  a  birthday,  and  we  celebrated 
it  in  the  corner  room  just  above  this.  It  was 
a  pretty  lively  dinner.  We  kept  it  up  from 
seven  o'clock  until  two  in  the  morning,  and  then 
we  all  went  out  on  the  Avenue  and  sat  down  in 
the  middle  of  the  street,  where  it  was  cool,  to 
smoke  and  talk  it  over.  That  was  Davidson's 
idea.  It  annoyed  the  cabmen  and  policemen 
horribly.  They  have  such  ready  tempers  and 
such  torpid  minds." 

The  recital  and  the  picture  it  called  up 
amused  her. 

"What  else  did  you  do?"  she  asked,  with  in- 
terest. 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  remember  much  of  it," 
he  confessed.  "I  know  we  were  pretty  silly; 
but  I  do  remember  how  foolish  the  head  waiter 
looked  when  Davidson  insisted  on  kissing  him 
good-bye  in  the  hall  out  there,  and  cried  be- 
cause he  didn't  know  when  he'd  see  him  again. 
Of  course  you  can't  see  how  funny  that  was, 
because  you  don't  know  Davidson.  He  was 
the  most  dignified  chap  at  college,  and  hated 
gush  more  than  any  one  I  ever  knew." 

He  drank  the  last  of  his  black  coffee  with  a 
sigh  of  content,  and  blew  a  last  ring  from  the 
cigar  she  had  insisted  that  he  should  smoke. 

86 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Don't  you  think,"  he  hazarded,  "that  it 
would  be  jolly  to  drive  up  and  down  Broadway 
and  Fifth  Avenue  for  an  hour  or  two?  If  you 
want  crowds,  they're  there ;  and  if  you  see  any- 
thing worth  closer  inspection,  we  can  get  out 
and  look  at  it." 

She  agreed,  and  he  paid  the  bill,  tipping  the 
waiter  discriminatingly. 

As  their  hansom  threaded  its  way  through 
the  crowded  street  she  rarely  smiled,  but  her 
sombre  eyes  took  in  everything,  and  she  "said 
things,"  as  the  boy  put  it,  which  he  recalled  and 
quoted  years  afterward.  Incidentally  she  talk- 
ed of  herself,  though  always  without  giving  him 
a  clew  as  to  who  she  was  and  where  she  came 
from.  Several  times,  as  a  face  in  the  passing 
throng  caught  her  interest,  she  outlined  for 
him  in  a  few  terse  words  the  character  of  its 
possessor.  He  was  interested,  but  he  must 
have  unconsciously  suggested  a  certain  unbelief 
in  her  intuition,  for  once  she  stopped  speaking 
and  looked  at  him  sharply. 

"You  think  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "but  I 
do.  We  always  know,  until  we  kill  the  gift 
with  conventionalities.  We're  born  with  an  in- 
tuitive knowledge  of  character.  Savages  have 
it,  and  animals,  and  babies.  We  lose  it  as  we 
87 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

advance  in  civilization,  for  then  we  distrust  our 
impressions  and  force  our  likes  and  dislikes  to 
follow  the  dictates  of  policy.  I've  worked  hard 
to  keep  and  develop  my  insight,  and  behold  my 
reward !  I  recognized  you  at  the  first  glance  as 
the  perfect  companion  of  a  day." 

The  boy's  face  flamed  with  pleasure. 

"Then  it  is  a  success?" 

"It  is  a  success.  But  it's  also  five  o'clock. 
What  next?" 

"Then  it's  been  a  success?"  he  repeated, 
dreamily — "so  far,  I  mean.  We've  done  so 
little  in  one  way,  but  I'm  awfully  glad  you've 
liked  it.  We'll  drop  into  Sherry's  now  for  a 
cup  of  tea  and  a  buttered  English  muffin  and 
the  beautiful  ladies  and  the  Hungarian  Band. 
Then,  instead  of  dining  there,  suppose  we  go 
to  some  gayer,  more  typical  New  York  place — 
one  of  the  big  Broadway  restaurants?  That 
will  show  you  another  'phase,'  as  you  say;  and 
the  cooking  is  almost  as  good." 

She  agreed  at  once.  "I  think  I'd  like  that," 
she  said.  "I  want  as  much  variety  as  I  can 
get." 

He  leaned  toward  her  impressively  over  the 
little  table  in  the  tea-room,  recalling  her  un- 
expected tribute  to  the  "perfect  companion," 

88 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  feeling  all  at  once  surprisingly  well  ac- 
quainted with  her. 

"  What  a  pity  you've  got  to  go  away  to- 
night!" he  murmured,  ingenuously.  "There's 
so  much  left  to  do." 

For  an  instant,  as  memory  rolled  over  her, 
her  heart  stopped  beating.  He  observed  her 
change  of  expression  and  looked  at  her  with  a 
sympathetic  question  in  his  gray  eyes. 

"Can't  you  change  your  plans?"  he  suggested, 
hopefully.  "  Must  you  go  ?" 

"  No,  they're  not  that  kind  of  plans.     I  must 

go." 

As  she  spoke  her  face  had  the  colorlessness 
and  the  immobility  he  had  seen  in  it  during  the 
first  moments  it  was  turned  toward  him  in  the 
morning,  and  her  features  suddenly  looked  old 
and  drawn.  Under  the  revelation  of  a  trouble 
greater  than  he  could  understand,  the  boy 
dropped  his  eyes. 

"By  Jove!"  he  thought,  suddenly,  "she's  got 
something  the  matter  with  her."  He  wondered 
what  it  was,  and  the  idea  flashed  over  him  that 
it  might  be  an  incurable  disease.  Only  the 
year  before  he  had  heard  a  friend  receive  his 
death-warrant  in  a  specialist's  office,  and  the 
memory  of  the  experience  remained  with  him. 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

He  was  so  deep  in  these  reflections  that  for  a 
moment  he  forgot  to  speak,  and  she  in  her  turn 
sat  silent. 

"I'm  sorry,"  he  then  said,  awkwardly.  Then, 
rightly  divining  the  quickest  way  to  divert  her 
thoughts,  he  suggested  that  they  should  drive 
again  before  dinner,  for  an  hour  or  two,  to  get 
the  effect  of  the  twilight  and  the  early  lights  on 
Broadway. 

She  agreed  at  once,  as  she  had  agreed  to  most 
of  his  suggestions,  and  her  face  when  she  looked 
at  him  was  serene  again,  but  he  was  not  wholly 
reassured.  In  silence  he  followed  her  to  the 
cab. 

Over  their  dinner  that  night  in  the  glittering 
Broadway  restaurant,  with  the  swinging  music 
of  French  and  German  waltzes  in  their  ears,  she 
relaxed  again  from  the  impersonal  attitude  she 
had  observed  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
day.  She  looked  at  him  more  as  if  she  saw 
him,  he  told  himself,  but  he  could  not  flatter 
himself  that  the  change  was  due  to  any  deepen- 
ing of  her  interest  in  him.  It  was  merely  that 
she  knew  him  better,  and  that  their  long  hours 
of  sight-seeing  had  verified  her  judgment  of  him. 

Their  talk  swept  over  the  world.  He  realized 
that  she  had  lived  much  abroad  and  had  known 

90 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

many  interesting  men  and  women.  From 
casual  remarks  she  dropped  he  learned  that  she 
was  an  orphan,  unmarried,  with  no  close  ties, 
and  that  her  home  was  not  near  New  York. 
This,  when  the  next  day,  after  a  dazed  reading 
of  the  morning  newspapers,  he  summed  up  his 
knowledge  of  her,  was  all  he  could  recall — the 
garnered  drift-wood  of  a  talk  that  had  extended 
over  twelve  hours. 

"You  look,"  he  said  once,  glancing  critically 
at  her,  "as  if  you  had  lived  for  centuries  and 
had  learned  all  the  lessons  life  could  teach." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  have  lived  for  cen- 
turies, so  far  as  that  goes,"  she  said,  "but  of 
all  the  lessons  I've  really  learned  only  one." 

"And  that  is?" 

"How  little  it  all  amounts  to." 

Again,  as  he  studied  her,  he  experienced  an 
unpleasant  little  tremor.  He  felt  at  the  same 
time  an  odd  conviction  that  this  woman  had 
played  a  part  all  day,  and  that  now,  through 
fatigue  and  depression,  she  was  tiring  of  her 
role  and  would  cast  it  away,  showing  herself  to 
him  as  she  was.  For  some  reason  he  did  not 
want  this.  The  face  behind  the  mask,  of  which 
he  was  beginning  to  get  a  glimpse  at  intervals, 
was  a  face  he  feared  he  would  not  like.  He 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

shrank  from  it  as  a  child  shrinks  from  what  it 
does  not  understand. 

Much  to  his  relief,  she  threw  off  the  dark 
mood  that  seemed  to  threaten  her,  and  at  the 
play  she  was  more  human  than  she  had  been  yet. 

"Ah,  that  first  act,"  she  said,  as  the  curtain 
fell  on  Peter  Pan's  flight  through  the  window 
with  the  Darling  Children — "that  delicious  first 
act!  Of  course  Barrie  can't  keep  it  up — no  one 
could.  But  the  humor  of  it  and  the  tenderness 
and  the  naiveteM  Only  a  grown-up  with  the 
heart  of  a  child  could  really  appreciate  it." 

"And  you  are  that?"  he  asked,  daringly. 
He  knew  she  was  not. 

"Only  for  this  half -hour,"  she  smiled.  "I 
may  get  critical  at  any  moment  and  entirely 
out  of  touch." 

She  did  not,  however,  and  watching  her  in- 
dulgent appreciation  of  the  little  boys  in  Never 
Never  Land,  he  unconsciously  reflected  that, 
after  all,  this  must  be  the  real  woman.  That 
other  personality,  some  sudden  disheartening 
side  of  which  he  got  from  time  to  time,  was  not 
his  new  friend  who  laughed  like  a  young  girl 
over  the  crocodile  with  the  clock  inside,  and 
showed  a  sudden  swift  moisture  in  her  brown 
eyes  when  the  actress  pleaded  for  the  dying  fairy. 

92 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

When  the  curtain  fell  on  the  last  act,  leaving 
Peter  Pan  alone  with  his  twinkling  fairy  friends 
in  his  little  home  high  among  the  trees,  Alice 
Stansbury  turned  to  her  companion  with  the 
sudden  change  of  expression  he  had  learned  to 
dread.  The  pupils  of  her  eyes  were  strangely 
dilated,  and  she  was  evidently  laboring  under 
some  suppressed  excitement.  She  spoke  to 
him  curtly  and  coolly. 

"We'll  have  a  Welsh  rabbit  somewhere,"  she 
said,  "and  then  I'll  go — back."  He  was  struck 
by  this  use  of  the  word,  and  by  the  tone  of  her 
voice  as  she  said  it.  "Back,"  he  repeated, 
mentally — "back  to  something  mighty  unpleas- 
ant, I'll  wager." 

At  the  restaurant  she  ate  nothing  and  said 
little.  All  the  snap  and  sparkle  had  gone  out 
of  the  day  and  out  of  their  companionship  as 
well.  Even  the  music  was  mournful,  as  if  in 
tacit  sympathy,  and  the  faces  of  the  diners 
around  them  looked  tired  and  old.  When  they 
left  the  dining-room  they  stood  together  for  an 
instant  in  the  vestibule  opening  into  the  street. 
No  one  was  near  them,  and  they  were  for  the 
moment  beyond  the  reach  of  curious  eyes.  She 
cast  one  quick  look  around  to  be  sure  of  this, 
and  then,  going  close  to  him,  she  put  both  her 

93 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

hands  on  his  shoulders.  As  she  stood  thus  he 
realized  for  the  first  time  how  tall  she  was. 
Her  eyes  were  almost  on  a  level  with  his  own. 

"You're  a  dear  boy,"  she  said,  quickly,  and 
a  little  breathlessly.  "  You  have  made  the  day 
perfect,  and  I  thank  you.  We  shall  not  meet 
again,  but  I'd  like  to  feel  that  you  won't  forget 
me,  and  I  want  you  to  tell  me  your  first  name." 

He  put  his  hands  over  hers. 

"It's  Philip,"  he  said,  simply,  "and  as  for 
forgetting,  you  may  be  very  sure  I  won't.  This 
isn't  the  kind  of  thing  one  forgets,  and  you're 
not  the  kind  of  woman." 

As  he  spoke  the  grip  of  her  hands  on  his 
shoulders  tightened,  and  she  leaned  forward 
and  kissed  him  on  the  mouth.  Under  the  sud- 
denness and  the  surprise  of  it  his  senses  whirled, 
but  even  in  the  chaos  of  the  moment  he  was 
conscious  of  two  conflicting  impressions— the 
first,  an  odd  disappointment  in  her,  his  friend; 
the  second,  an  absurd  resentment  against  the 
singular  remoteness  of  those  cool,  soft  lips  that 
for  an  instant  brushed  his  own.  She  gave  him 
no  chance  to  speak. 

"  I've  left  my  gloves  on  the  table,"  she  said, 
crisply.  "Get  them." 

He  went  without  a  word.  When  he  returned 
94 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

the  vestibule  was  deserted.  With  a  swift  in- 
tuition of  the  truth  he  opened  the  door  and 
rushed  out  into  the  street.  She  was  not  there, 
nor  the  cabman  whom  he  had  instructed  to  wait 
for  them.  She  had  slipped  away,  as  she  in- 
tended to  do,  and  the  kiss  she  had  given  him 
had  been  a  farewell.  He  was  left  standing  look- 
ing stupidly  up  and  down  the  street,  with  her 
gloves  in  his  hand  and  her  purse,  as  he  now 
remembered,  in  his  pocket.  Well,  he  could  ad- 
vertise that  the  next  morning,  in  such  a  way 
that  she  could  reclaim  it  without  seeing  him 
again  if  she  wished.  He  could  even  seal  it  in 
an  envelope  and  leave  it  at  the  Herald  office, 
to  be  given  to  any  one  who  would  describe  it. 
He  walked  slowly  down  Broadway  and  turned 
into  the  side  street  which  held  the  house  and 
the  unattractive  hall  bedroom  he  called  home. 
He  felt  "let  down,"  as  he  would  have  put  it, 
and  horribly  lonely  and  depressed.  She  was 
such  a  good  sort,  he  reflected,  and  it  was  such 
a  big  pity  she  wouldn't  let  him  see  her  again. 
He  knew  somehow  that  he  never  would.  She 
was  not  a  woman  that  changed  her  mind  about 
things.  Jove!  but  the  whole  experience  had 
been  interesting;  and  that  kiss — that  kiss  he 
had  been  cad  enough  to  misunderstand  for  an 
95 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

instant. . . .  The  deepest  blush  of  the  day  scorch- 
ed his  face  as  he  recalled  it. 

Miss  Stansbury  arrived  at  the  front  entrance 
of  her  hotel  at  the  same  moment,  and  tersely  in- 
structed the  driver  to  collect  his  fare  at  the 
desk.  She  entered  the  hall  with  him,  and 
walked  indifferently  past  the  night  clerk,  an- 
swering with  a  nod  the  tacit  question  of  that 
youth  as  he  glanced  from  her  to  the  cabman. 
She  was  not  unconscious  of  the  suppressed  ex- 
citement in  his  manner  nor  of  the  elevator  boy's 
relief  as  he  joyfully  greeted  her  appearance  in 
his  car.  What  did  it  matter?  What  did  any- 
thing matter  now?  Her  day  was  over. 

Miss  Manuel,  already  informed  of  her  arrival 
by  a  hurried  telephone  message  from  the  office, 
was  waiting  for  her  at  the  door  of  their  apart- 
ment. She  burst  into  tears  as  she  put  her  arms 
around  her  patient  and  kissed  her  and  led  her 
inside. 

"Oh,  my  dear,  how  could  you?"  she  cried, 
reproachfully.  "  Think  of  the  agonies  I've  been 
through.  It's  almost  twelve  o'clock." 

The  other  woman  did  not  look  at  her,  nor  did 
she  return  the  caress.  She  walked  into  the 
room  and  sat  down  at  her  desk,  with  a  strange 
appearance  of  haste,  at  which  the  nurse  mar- 

96 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

veiled.  Without  waiting  to  take  off  her  hat 
or  coat,  she  seized  a  pen  and  paper  and  wrote 
these  lines,  marking  them  plainly : 

PERSONAL 

FOR   INSERTION   IN   TO-MORROW'S   "  HERALD  " 

PHILIP. — The  purse  was  purposely  left  with  you.  Its 
contents  are  yours. 

She  put  this  in  an  envelope  and  directed  it  to 
the  Herald  Advertising  Department.  Then,  for 
the  first  time,  she  spoke  to  the  nurse,  balancing 
the  envelope  absently  in  her  hand  as  she  talked, 
and  not  looking  once  at  the  other's  face.  Her 
tones  were  level  and  monotonous,  almost  as  if 
she  were  repeating  a  lesson. 

"You  need  not  have  worried,"  she  said,  an- 
swering at  last  the  nurse's  first  words.  "  I've 
had  what  I've  wanted  for  years — a  whole  day 
to  myself.  I've  done  what  I  wanted  to  do. 
It's  been  worth  while.  But,"  she  added,  more 
slowly,  "you  needn't  ask  me  about  it,  for  I 
shall  not  tell  you  anything.  Ring  for  a  mes- 
senger, please.  I  want  this  taken  to  the  Herald 
office  at  once;  give  him  the  money  to  pay 
for  it." 

97 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

In  silence  Miss  Manuel  obeyed.  When  the 
boy  came  she  went  into  the  hall  to  hand  the 
envelope  to  him,  glancing  at  the  address  as  she 
did  so.  The  instant  she  crossed  the  threshold 
Alice  Stansbury  slipped  into  the  next  room  and 
opened  a  window  looking  down  into  a  court. 
As  she  did  so  she  whimpered  like  a  frightened 
child. 

"I  must  do  it,"  she  whispered.  "I  must — I 
must — now — now — now!  If  I  wait,  I  won't — 
dare." 

When  the  nurse  entered  the  room  there  was 
only  the  open  window  to  tell  her  what  had 
happened.  Panting,  she  leaned  out  and  looked 
down  with  starting  eyes.  Far  below,  on  the 
asphalt  floor  of  the  court,  was  a  dark  mass  which 
moved  once  and  then  lay  still. 

The  little  clock  on  the  table  in  the  inner 
room  struck  twelve.  Out  in  the  hall  the  mes- 
senger whistled  softly  as  he  waited  for  the  ele- 
vator. Hearing  these  familiar  sounds,  the  nurse 
cast  off  the  paralysis  which  had  held  her,  and 
the  silent  corridor  of  the  great  hotel  echoed  her 
useless  call  for  help. 


IV 

THE  SIMPLE  LIFE   OF  GENEVIEVE  MAUD 

GENEVIEVE  MAUD  reclined  in  a  geranium- 
bed  in  an  attitude  of  unstudied  ease.  On 
her  fat  body  was  a  white  dress,  round  her  waist 
was  a  wide,  blue  sash,  perched  on  one  side  of 
her  head  was  a  flaunting  blue  bow,  and  in  her 
heart  was  bitterness.  It  was  dimly  comforting 
to  lie  down  in  all  this  finery,  but  it  did  not  real- 
ly help  much.  She  brooded  darkly  upon  her 
wrongs.  They  were  numerous,  and  her  cheru- 
bic little  face  took  on  additional  gloom  as  she 
summed  them  up.  First,  she  had  been  request- 
ed to  be  good — a  suggestion  always  unwelcome 
to  the  haughty  soul  of  Genevieve  Maud,  and 
doubly  so  this  morning  when  she  saw  no  alter- 
native but  to  obey  it.  Secondly,  there  was  no 
one  to  play  with — a  situation  depressing  to  any 
companionable  being,  and  grindingly  so  to  one 
who  considered  all  men  her  peers,  all  women  her 
unquestioning  slaves,  and  all  animals  grateful 

99 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

ministers  to  her  needs  in  lowlier  fields  of  de- 
light. 

These  delusions,  it  must  be  admitted,  had 
been  fostered  during  the  four  short  but  eventful 
years  of  Gene  vie  ve  Maud's  life.  Her  method 
of  approach  had  been  singularly  compelling; 
old  and  young  paused  not  to  argue,  but  freely 
stripped  themselves  of  adornments  she  fancied, 
and  animals,  from  the  kitten  she  carried  round 
by  one  ear  to  the  great  St.  Bernard  she  half 
strangled  in  recurring  moments  of  endearment, 
bore  with  her  adoringly,  and  humbly  followed 
the  trail  of  cake  she  left  behind  her  when  she 
tired  of  them  and  trotted  off  in  search  of  fresh 
attractions.  These  were  usually  numerous ;  and 
had  they  been  rarer,  the  ingenuity  of  Genevieve 
Maud  would  have  been  equal  to  the  test.  There 
were  no  social  distinctions  in  her  individual 
world.  But  one  short  year  ago  she  had  followed 
a  hand-organ  man  and  a  monkey  to  a  point 
safely  distant  from  too-observant  relatives  and 
servants;  there,  beside  the  chattering  monkey, 
she  had  sung  and  danced  and  scrambled  for 
pennies  and  shaken  a  tambourine,  and  generally 
conducted  herself  like  a  debutante  maenad. 

That  had  been  a  glorious  day.  She  recalled 
it  now  smoulderingly,  resentfully.  Different, 

100 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

indeed,  was  the  tragic  present.  No  one  to  play 
with — that  was  bad  enough.  But  there  were 
still  worse  conditions.  She  was  not  even  allow- 
ed to  play  by  herself !  Rover  had  been  banished 
to  a  neighbor's,  the  kitten  had  been  lent  gener- 
ously to  the  Joyce  children,  her  human  play- 
mates had  been  warned  off  the  premises,  and 
Genevieve  Maud  had  been  urged  to  be  a  dear 
little  girl  and  keep  very,  very  quiet  because 
mamma  was  sick.  As  if  this  was  not  enough, 
fate  drove  its  relentless  knife  and  gave  it  a  final 
twist.  Far  back  in  a  corner  of  the  garden  where 
she  lay,  almost  hidden  by  the  drooping  branches 
of  an  old  willow,  sat  her  two  sisters,  Helen  Ade- 
line and  Grace  Margaret,  highly  superior  beings 
of  a  stately  dignity  even  beyond  their  ripe  ages 
of  eleven  and  nine  years.  They  were  too  old  to 
play  with  little  girls,  as  they  had  frequently 
mentioned  to  Genevieve  Maud,  but  they  were 
not  wholly  beyond  the  power  of  her  spell,  and 
there  had  been  occasions  when  they  had  so  far 
forgotten  themselves  as  to  descend  to  her  level 
and  enjoy  doll  tea-parties  and  similar  infantile 
pleasures.  To-day,  however,  they  were  of  a 
remoteness.  Their  plump  backs  were  turned 
to  her,  their  heads  were  close  together,  and  on 
the  soft  afternoon  breeze  that  floated  over  the 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

garden  were  borne  sibilant  whispers.  They 
were  telling  each  other  secrets — secrets  from 
which  Gene  vie  ve  Maud,  by  reason  of  her  tender 
years,  was  irrevocably  shut  out. 

Genevieve  Maud  sat  up  suddenly  in  the  flow- 
er-bed as  the  full  horror  of  this  truth  burst  upon 
her,  and  then  briskly  entered  into  action  de- 
signed to  transform  the  peace  and  quiet  of  the 
scene.  Her  small,  fat  face  turned  purple,  her 
big,  brown  eyes  shut  tight,  her  round  mouth 
opened,  and  from  the  tiny  aperture  came  a 
succession  of  shrieks  which  would  have  lulled 
a  siren  into  abashed  silence.  The  effect  of  this 
demonstration,  rarely  long  delayed,  was  in- 
stantaneous now.  A  white-capped  nurse  came 
to  an  up-stairs  window  and  shook  her  head 
warningly;  the  two  small  sisters  rose  and  scur- 
ried across  the  lawn;  a  neighbor  came  to  the 
hedge  and  clapped  her  hands  softly,  clucking 
mystic  monosyllables  supposed  to  be  of  a 
soothing  nature;  neighboring  children  within 
hearing  assumed  half-holiday  expressions  and 
started  with  a  rush  to  the  side  of  the  blatant 
afflicted  one.  Surveying  all  this  through  half- 
shut  eyes  and  hearing  the  steady  tramp  of  the 
oncoming  relief  corps,  an  expression  of  trium- 
phant content  rested  for  an  instant  of  Genevieve 

102 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Maud's  face.  Then  she  tied  it  up  again  into 
knots  of  even  more  disfiguring  pattern,  took 
another  long  breath,  and  apparently  made  an 
earnest  effort  to  attract  the  attention  of  citizens 
of  the  next  township.  "I'm  tired!"  was  the 
message  Genevieve  Maud  sent  to  a  sympathetic 
world  on  the  wings  of  this  megaphonic  roar. 

The  trained  nurse,  who  had  rushed  down- 
stairs and  into  the  garden,  now  reached  her 
side  and  drastically  checked  Genevieve  Maud's 
histrionism  by  spreading  a  spacious  palm  over 
the  wide  little  mouth.  With  her  other  hand  she 
hoisted  Genevieve  Maud  from  the  flower-bed 
and  escorted  her  to  neutral  ground  on  the  lawn. 

'"Tired!"'  repeated  the  irate  nurse,  as  the 
uproar  subsided  to  gurgles.  "Heavens!  I 
should  think  you  would  be,  after  that!"  Helen 
Adeline  and  Grace  Margaret  arrived  simultane- 
ously, and  the  older  child  took  the  situation  and 
the  infant  in  hand  with  her  best  imitation  of  her 
mother's  manner. 

"I  am  so  sorry  you  were  disturbed,  Miss 
Wynne,"  she  said,  "and  poor  mamma,  too.  We 
will  take  care  of  Genevieve  Maud,  and  she  won't 
cry  any  more.  We  were  just  making  some 
plans  for  her  future,"  she  ended,  loftily. 

The  mouth  of  Genevieve  Maud,  stretched  for 
103 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

another  yell,  was  arrested  in  its  distension.  Her 
small  ears  opened  wide.  Was  she,  after  all,  in 
the  secret?  It  would  seem  so,  for  the  nurse, 
seemingly  satisfied,  left  the  three  children  alone 
and  went  back  to  her  patient,  while  Helen 
Adeline  at  once  led  her  small  sister  to  the  choice 
retreat  under  the  willow. 

"We  are  going  to  talk  to  you,  Genevieve 
Maud,"  she  began,  "ve-ry  seriously,  and  we 
want  you  to  pay  'tention  and  try  to  under- 
stand." This  much  was  easy.  Mamma  usu- 
ally opened  her  impressive  addresses  in  such 
fashion. 

"'Pay  'tention  and  try  to  understand," 
echoed  Genevieve  Maud,  and  grinned  in  joyful 
interest. 

"Yes,  really  try,"  repeated  Helen  Adeline, 
firmly.  Then,  rather  impatiently,  and  as  one 
bearing  with  the  painful  limitations  of  the 
young,  she  went  on: 

"You're  so  little,  Maudie,  you  see,  you  don't 
know;  and  you  won't  know  even  if  we  tell  you. 
But  you  are  a  spoiled  child;  every  one  says  so, 
and  mamma  said  the  other  day  that  something 
should  be  done.  She's  sick,  so  she  can't  do  it, 
but  we  can.  We've  got  to  take  care  of  you, 
anyhow,  so  this  is  a  good  time.  Now  what  it 

104 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

really  is,  is  a  kind  of  game.  Gracie  and  I  will 
play  it,  and  you  are  going  to — to — well,  you 
are  going  to  be  the  game." 

Genevieve  Maud  nodded  solemnly,  well  satis- 
fied. She  was  in  it,  anyhow.  What  mattered 
the  petty  details?  "'Going  to  be  the  game,'" 
she  echoed,  as  was  her  invariable  custom,  with 
the  air  of  uttering  an  original  thought. 

Helen  Adeline  went  on  impressively. 

"It's  called  the  simple  life,"  she  said,  "and 
grown-up  folks  are  playing  it  now.  I  heard  the 
minister  an'  mamma  talking  about  it  las'  week 
for  hours  an*  hours  an*  hours.  They  give  up 
pomps  an'  vanerties,  the  minister  says,  an'  they 
mus'n't  have  luxuries,  an'  they  mus'  live  like 
nature  an'  save  their  souls.  They  can't  save 
their  souls  when  they  have  pomps  an'  vanerties. 
We  thought  we'd  try  it  with  you  first,  an'  then 
if  we  like  it — er — if  it's  nice,  I  mean,  p'r'aps 
Grace  an'  I  will,  too.  But  mamma  is  sick,  an' 
you've  had  too  many  things  an'  too  much  'ten- 
tion,  so  it's  a  good  time  for  you  to  lead  the  sim- 
ple life  an'  do  without  things." 

Genevieve  Maud,  gazing  into  her  sister's  face 
with  big,  interested  eyes,  was  vaguely,  sub- 
consciously aware  that  the  new  game  might 
halt  this  side  of  perfect  content ;  but  she  was  of 
s  105 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

an  experimental  turn  and  refrained  from  ex- 
pressing any  scepticism  until  she  knew  what 
was  coming.  In  the  mean  time  the  eyes  of  her 
sister  Grace  Margaret  had  roamed  disapprov- 
ingly over  Genevieve  Maud's  white  dress,  the 
blue  sash  that  begirded  her  middle,  the  rampant 
bow  on  her  hair.  Katie  had  put  on  all  these 
things  conscientiously,  and  had  then  joyfully 
freed  her  mind  from  the  burden  of  thought  of 
the  child  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 

"Don't  you  think,"  Grace  Margaret  asked 
Helen  Adeline,  tentatively,  "sashes  an'  bows 
is  pomps?" 

Helen  Adeline  gave  the  speaker  a  stolid,  un- 
expressive  glance.  She  acquiesced. 

"Let's  take  'em  off,"  went  on  the  younger 
and  more  practical  spirit.  "Then  we  won't 
never  have  to  tie  'em  for  her,  either,  when  they 
get  loose." 

They  stripped  Genevieve  Maud,  first  of  the 
sash  and  bows,  then  of  the  white  gown,  next  of 
her  soft  undergarments,  finally,  as  zeal  waxed, 
even  of  her  shoes  and  stockings.  She  stood 
before  them  clad  in  innocence  and  full  of  joyful 
expectation. 

"All  these  fine  clothes  is  pomps  an'  vaner- 
ties,"  remarked  Helen  Adeline,  firmly.  "The 

106 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

minister  said  so  when  he  was  talking  with 
mamma  'bout  the  simple  life,  an'  Gracie  and  I 
listened.  It  was  very  interestin'." 

She  surveyed  the  innocent  nudity  of  her  little 
sister,  "naked  but  not  ashamed,"  with  a  specu- 
lative glance. 

"  Katie  will  be  glad,  won't  she  ?"  she  reflected, 
aloud.  "She  says  there's  too  much  washing. 
Now  she  won't  have  to  do  any  more  for  you. 
Don't  you  feel  better  an'  happier  without  those 
pomps?"  she  asked  Genevieve  Maud. 

That  young  person  was"  already  rolling  on  the 
grass,  thrusting  her  little  toes  into  the  cool 
earth,  exulting  in  her  new-found  sartorial  eman- 
cipation. If  this  was  the  "new  game,"  the 
new  game  was  a  winner.  Grace  Margaret,  gaz- 
ing doubtfully  at  her,  was  dimly  conscious  of  an 
effect  of  incompleteness. 

"I  think  she  ought  to  have  a  hat,"  she 
murmured,  at  last.  Helen  Adeline  was  good- 
naturedly  acquiescent. 

"All  right,"  she  answered,  cheerfully,  "but 
not  a  pompy  one.  Papa's  big  straw  will  do." 
They  found  it  and  put  it  on  the  infant,  whose 
eyes  and  face  were  thereby  fortunately  shaded 
from  the  hot  glare  of  the  August  sun.  Almost 
before  it  was  on  her  head  she  had  slipped  away 

107 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  was  running  in  and  out  of  the  shrubbery, 
her  white  body  flashing  among  the  leaves. 

"We'll  have  our  luncheon  here,"  announced 
Helen  Adeline,  firmly,  "an'  I'll  bring  it  out  to 
save  Katie  trouble.  Maudie  can't  have  rich 
food,  of  course,  'cos  she's  livin'  the  simple  life. 
We'll  give  her  bread  off  a  tin  plate." 

Grace  Margaret  looked  startled. 

"  We  haven't  got  any  tin  plate,"  she  objected. 

"Rover  has." 

Grace  Margaret's  eyes  dropped  suddenly, 
then  rose  and  met  her  sister's.  An  unwilling 
admiration  crept  into  them. 

"  How  will  Maudie  learn  nice  table  manners?" 
she  protested,  feebly.  "  Mamma  says  she  must, 
you  know." 

"Folks  don't  have  nice  table  manners  when 
they're  livin'  simple  lives,"  announced  Helen 
Adeline,  loftily.  "They  just  eat.  I  guess  we 
won't  give  her  knives  an*  forks  an*  spoons, 
either." 

Grace  Margaret  battled  with  temptation  and 
weakly  succumbed. 

"Let's  give  her  some  of  the  rice  pudding, 
though,"  she  suggested.  "It  will  be  such  fun 
to  see  her  eat  it,  'specially  if  it's  very  creamy!" 

Of  further  details  of  that  luncheon  all  three 
1 08 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

children  thereafter  declined  to  speak.  To  Gen- 
evieve  Maud  the  only  point  worthy  of  men- 
tion was  that  she  had  what  the  others  had. 
This  compromise  effected,  the  manner  of  eat- 
ing it  was  to  her  a  detail  of  indescribable  unim- 
portance. What  were  knives,  forks,  spoons,  or 
their  lack,  to  Genevieve  Maud?  The  tin  plate 
was  merely  a  gratifying  novelty,  and  that  she 
had  been  in  close  communion  with  rice  pudding 
was  eloquently  testified  by  the  samples  of  that 
delicacy  which  clung  affectionately  to  her  feat- 
ures and  her  fat  person  during  the  afternoon. 

While  they  ate,  Helen  Adeline's  active  mind 
had  been  busy.  She  generously  gave  her  sisters 
the  benefit  of  its  working  without  delay. 

"  She  mus'n't  have  any  money,"  she  observed, 
thoughtfully,  following  with  unseeing  eyes  the 
final  careful  polish  the  small  tongue  of  Genevieve 
Maud  was  giving  Rover's  borrowed  plate.  "  No 
one  has  money  in  the  simple  life,  so  we  mus' 
take  her  bank  an'  get  all  the  money  out  an' — " 

"Spend  it!"  suggested  Grace  Margaret,  rapt- 
urously, with  her  second  inspiration.  Helen 
Adeline  reflected.  The  temptation  was  great, 
but  at  the  back  of  her  wise  little  head  lay  a 
dim  foreboding  as  to  the  possible  consequences. 

"No,"  she  finally  decided,  consistently.  "I 
109 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

guess  it  mus'  be  given  to  the  poor.  We'll  break 
the  bank  an*  take  it  out,  an'  Maudie  can  give 
it  to  the  poor  all  by  herself.  Then  if  any  one 
scolds,  she  did  it!  You'll  enjoy  that  kind  an' 
noble  act,  won't  you,  Maudie?"  she  added,  in 
her  stateliest  grown-up  manner. 

Maudie  decided  that  she  would,  and  promptly 
corroborated  Helen  Adeline's  impression.  The 
soft  August  breeze  fanned  her  body,  the  grass 
was  cool  and  fresh  under  her  feet,  and  her  little 
stomach  looked  as  if  modelled  from  a  football 
by  her  ample  luncheon.  She  was  to  be  the  cen- 
tral figure  in  the  distribution  of  her  wealth,  and 
wisdom  beyond  her  own  would  burden  itself  with 
the  insignificant  details.  Genevieve  Maud,  get- 
ting together  the  material  for  large  and  slushy 
mud  pies,  sang  blithely  to  herself,  and  found  the 
simple  life  its  own  reward. 

"We'll  leave  her  with  her  dolls,"  continued 
Helen  Adeline,  "an*  we'll  hunt  up  deservin' 
poor.  Then  we'll  bring  'em  here  an'  Maudie 
can  give  'em  all  she  has.  But  first" — her  little 
sharp  eyes  rested  discontentedly  upon  Genevieve 
Maud's  family — six  dolls  reposing  in  a  blissful 
row  in  a  pansy -bed  —  "first  we  mus'  remove 
those  pomps  an'  vanerties." 

Grace  gasped. 

no 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Take  away  the  dolls?"  she  ejaculated,  diz- 
zily. 

"No,  not  edzactly.  Jus'  take  off  all  their 
clothes.  Don't  you  think  it  looks  silly  for 
them  to  have  clothes  on  when  Maudie  hasn't 
any?" 

Grace  Margaret  agreed  that  it  did,  and  at 
once  the  mistake  was  rectified,  the  clothing  was 
added  to  the  heap  of  Genevieve  Maud's  gar- 
ments, and  a  pleasing  effect  of  harmony  reigned. 
The  little  girls  regarded  it  with  innocent  satis- 
faction. 

"I  s'pose  we  couldn't  really  take  her  dolls," 
reflected  Helen  Adeline,  aloud.  "She'd  make 
an  awful  fuss,  an'  she's  so  good  an'  quiet  now 
it's  a  pity  to  start  her  off.  But  her  toys  mus1 
go.  They're  very  expensive,  an'  they're  pomps 
an'  vanerties,  I  know.  So  we'll  take  'em  with 
us  an'  give  'em  to  poor  children." 

"You  think  of  lots  of  things,  don't  you?" 
gurgled  Grace  Margaret,  with  warm  admiration. 
Her  sister  accepted  the  tribute  modestly,  as 
no  more  than  her  due.  Leaving  Genevieve 
Maud  happy  with  her  mud  pies  and  her  stripped 
dolls,  the  two  sought  the  nursery  and  there 
made  a  discriminating  collection  of  her  choicest 
treasures.  Her  Noah's  Ark,  her  picture-books, 
in 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

her  colored  balls  and  blocks,  her  woolly  lambs 
that  moved  on  wheels,  her  miniature  croquet 
set,  all  fell  into  their  ruthless  young  hands  and, 
as  a  crowning  crime,  were  dumped  into  the  lit- 
tle go-cart  that  was  the  very  apple  of  Genevieve 
Maud's  round  eyes.  It  squeaked  under  its  bur- 
den as  the  children  drew  it  carefully  along  the 
hall.  They  carried  it  down-stairs  with  exag- 
gerated caution,  but  Gene  vie  ve  Maud  saw  it 
from  afar,  and,  deeply  moved  by  their  thought- 
fulness,  approached  with  gurgles  of  selfish  ap- 
preciation. The  conspirators  exchanged  glances 
of  despair.  It  was  the  intrepid  spirit  of  Helen 
Adeline  that  coped  with  the  distressing  situa- 
tion. Sitting  down  before  her  victim,  she  took 
Maudie's  reluctant  hands  in  hers  and  gazed  deep 
into  her  eyes  as  mamma  was  wont  to  gaze  into 
hers  on  the  various  occasions  when  serious  talks 
became  necessary. 

"Now,  Genevieve  Maud,"  she  began,  "you 
mus'  listen  an'  you  mus'  mind,  or  you  can't 
play.  Ain't  you  havin'  a  good  time?  If  you 
don't  want  to  do  what  we  say,  we'll  put  your 
clothes  right  straight  on  again  an'  leave  you  in 
the  midst  of  your  pomps  an'  vanerties:  an' 
then  —  what  '11  become  of  your  soul?"  She 
paused  impressively  to  allow  this  vital  ques- 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

tion  to  make  its  full  appeal.     Genevieve  Maud 
writhed  and  squirmed. 

"But,"  continued  Helen  Adeline,  solemnly, 
"if  you  do  jus'  as  we  say,  we'll  let  you  play 
some  more."  The  larger  issue  was  temporarily 
lost  sight  of  this  time,  but  the  one  presented 
seemed  to  appeal  vividly  to  Genevieve  Maud. 

"Let  Genevieve  Maud  play  some  more,"  she 
wheedled. 

"And  will  you  do  everything  we  say?" 

"Do  everything  you  say,"  promised  Gene- 
vieve Maud,  recklessly. 

"Very  well," — this  with  a  fidelity  in  its  imita- 
tion to  her  mother's  manner  which  would  have 
convulsed  that  admirable  and  long-suffering 
woman  could  she  have  heard  it.  "An'  first  of 
all  we  mus'  give  away  your  toys  to  poor  chil- 
dren." 

The  mouth  of  Genevieve  Maud  opened.  Helen 
Adeline  held  up  a  warning  hand,  and  it  shut. 

"They're  pomps"  repeated  the  older  sister, 
positively,  "an'  we'll  bring  you  simple  toys  if 
poor  children  will  exchange  with  us." 

This  was  at  least  extenuating.  Genevieve 
Maud  hesitated  and  sniffed.  In  the  matter  of 
being  stripped,  toys  were  more  important  than 
clothes. 

"3 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"If  you  don't,  you  know,  you  can't  play," 
Grace  Margaret  reminded  her. 

"Awright,"  remarked  Genevieve  Maud,  brief- 
ly. "Give  toys  to  poor  chil'ren." 

They  hurriedly  left  her  before  her  noble  pur- 
pose could  do  so,  and  Genevieve  Maud,  left  to 
her  own  resources,  made  unctuous  mud  pies  and 
fed  them  to  her  family.  Grace  Margaret  and 
Helen  Adeline  returned  in  triumph  within  the 
hour  and  laid  at  the  feet  of  their  small  victim 
modest  offerings  consisting  of  one  armless  rubber 
doll,  one  dirty  and  badly  torn  picture-book,  and 
one  top,  broken. 

"These  is  simple,"  declared  Helen  Adeline, 
with  truth,  "an'  the  poor  Murphy  children  has 
your  pomps,  Maudie.  Are  you  glad?" 

Genevieve  Maud,  surveying  doubtfully  the 
nondescript  collection  before  her,  murmured 
without  visible  enthusiasm  something  which 
was  interpreted  as  meaning  that  she  was  glad. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  charm  of  the  simple 
life  was  not  borne  in  upon  her  compellingly. 
The  top  she  accepted  until  she  discovered  that 
it  would  not  go.  The  rubber  doll  she  declined 
to  touch  until  Grace  Margaret  sugggested  that 
it  had  been  in  a  hospital  and  had  had  its  arms 
amputated  like  Mrs.  Clark's  son  Charlie.  Deep- 
114 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

ly  moved  by  the  pathos  of  this  tragic  fate, 
Genevieve  Maud  added  the  rubber  doll  to  her 
aristocratic  family,  whose  members  seemed  to 
shrink  aside  as  it  fell  among  them.  The  pict- 
ure-book she  declined  to  touch  at  all. 

"It's  dirty,"  she  remarked,  with  an  air  of 
finality  which  effectually  closed  the  discussion. 
By  this  time  she  was  not  herself  an  especially 
effective  monument  of  cleanliness.  The  rice 
pudding  and  the  mud  pies  had  combined  to 
produce  a  somewhat  bizarre  effect,  and  the  dirt 
she  had  casually  gathered  from  the  paths,  the 
flower-beds,  and  the  hedges  enlivened  but  did 
not  improve  the  ensemble. 

"She  ought  to  be  washed  pretty  soon,"  sug- 
gested Grace,  surveying  her  critically;  but  to 
this  tacit  criticism  Helen  Adeline  promptly  took 
exception. 

"They  don't  have  to,  so  much,"  she  objected, 
"when  it's  the  simple  life.  That's  one  of  the 
nice  things." 

With  this  decision  Genevieve  Maud  was  well 
content.  Her  tender  years  forbade  hair-split- 
ting and  subtle  distinctions ;  the  term  "  accumu- 
lated dirt"  or  "old  dirt"  had  no  significance  for 
her.  She  could  not  have  told  why  she  rejected 
the  Murphy  child's  thoroughly  grimed  picture- 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

book,  yet  herself  rolled  happily  about  in  a  thin 
coating  of  mud  and  dust,  but  she  did  both  in- 
stinctively. 

Her  attention  was  pleasantly  distracted  by 
subdued  cries  from  the  street  beyond  the  garden 
hedge.  Three  Italian  women,  all  old,  stood 
there  gesticulating  freely  and  signalling  to  the 
children,  and  a  small  ragged  boy  on  crutches 
hovered  nervously  near  them.  Helen  Adeline 
jumped  to  her  feet  with  a  sudden  exclama- 
tion. 

"It's  the  poor!"  she  said,  excitedly.  "For 
your  money,  Genevieve  Maud.  I  told  them  to 
come.  Get  the  bank,  Gracie,  an'  she  mus'  give 
it  all  away!" 

Grace  departed  promptly  on  her  errand,  but 
there  was  some  delay  in  opening  the  bank  when 
she  returned — an  interval  filled  pleasantly  by 
the  visitors  with  interested  scrutiny  of  the 
shameless  Genevieve  Maud,  whose  airy  uncon- 
sciousness of  her  unconventional  appearance 
uniquely  attested  her  youth.  When  the  money 
finally  came,  rolling  out  in  pennies,  five-cent 
pieces,  and  rare  dimes,  the  look  of  good-natured 
wonder  in  the  old  black  eyes  peering  wolfishly 
over  the  hedge  changed  quickly  to  one  of  keen 
cupidity,  but  the  children  saw  nothing  of  this. 

116 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Helen  Adeline  divided  the  money  as  evenly  as 
she  could  into  four  little  heaps. 

"It's  all  she  has,"  she  explained,  grandly, 
"  so  she's  got  to  give  it  all  to  you,  'cos  riches 
is  pomps  an'  ruins  souls.  Give  it,  Genevieve 
Maud,"  she  continued,  magnanimously  surren- 
dering the  centre  of  the  stage  to  the  novice  in 
the  simple  life. 

Genevieve  Maud  handed  it  over  with  a  fat 
and  dirty  little  paw,  and  the  women  and  the 
lame  boy  took  it  uncritically,  with  words  of 
thanks  and  even  with  friendly  smiles.  Strangely 
enough,  there  was  no  quarrelling  among  them- 
selves over  the  distribution  of  the  spoils.  For 
one  golden  moment  they  were  touched  and  soft- 
ened by  the  gift  of  the  baby  hand  that  gave  its 
all  so  generously.  Then  the  wisdom  of  a  speedy 
disappearance  struck  them  and  they  faded 
away,  leaving  the  quiet  street  again  deserted. 
Helen  Adeline  drew  a  long  breath  as  the  bright 
gleam  of  their  kerchiefs  disappeared  around  a 
corner. 

"That's  nice,"  she  exclaimed,  contentedly. 
"Now  what  else  can  we  make  her  do?" 

The  two  pair  of  eyes  rested  meditatively  on 
the  unconscious  little  sister,  again  lost  to  her 
surroundings  in  the  construction  of  her  twenty- 

117 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

third  mud  pie.  Not  even  the  surrender  of  her 
fortune  beguiled  her  from  this  unleavened  joy 
of  the  simple  life.  "We've  made  her  do  'mos' 
everything,  I  guess,"  admitted  Grace  Margaret, 
with  evident  reluctance.  It  appeared  so,  in- 
deed. Stripped  of  her  clothing,  her  money  and 
her  toys,  it  would  seem  that  little  in  the  way 
of  earthly  possessions  was  left  to  Genevieve 
Maud;  but  even  as  they  looked  again,  Grace 
Margaret  had  another  inspiration. 

"Don't  they  work  when  they  have  simple 
lives?"  she  asked,  abruptly. 

"  'Course  they  work." 

"Then  let's  have  Genevieve  Maud  do  our 
work." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment — silence  filled 
with  the  soul-satisfying  enjoyment  of  a  noble 
conception. 

"Grace  Margaret  Davenport,"  said  Helen, 
solemnly,  "you're  a  smart  girl!"  She  exhaled 
a  happy  sigh,  and  added :  "  'Course  we'll  let  her! 
She  mus'  work.  She  can  water  the  geraniums 
for  you  an'  the  pansies  for  me,  an'  gather  up 
the  croquet  things  for  me  an'  take  them  in,  an* 
fill  Rover's  water-basin,  an'  get  seed  for  the 
birds,  an*  pick  up  all  the  paper  an'  leaves  on 
the  lawn," 

118 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

It  is  to  be  deplored  that  the  active  and  even 
strenuous  life  thus  outlined  did  not  for  the 
moment  appeal  to  Genevieve  Maud  when  they 
brought  its  attractions  to  her  attention.  The 
afternoon  was  fading,  and  Genevieve  Maud 
was  beginning  to  fade,  too;  her  little  feet 
were  tired,  and  her  fat  legs  seemed  to  curve 
more  in  her  weariness  •  of  well-doing ;  but  the 
awful  threat  of  being  left  out  of  the  game  still 
held,  and  she  struggled  bravely  with  her  task, 
while  the  two  arch-conspirators  reposed  lan- 
guidly and  surveyed  her  efforts  from  beneath 
the  willow-tree. 

"It'll  be  her  bedtime  pretty  soon,"  suggested 
Helen  Adeline,  the  suspicion  of  a  guilty  con- 
science lurking  in  the  remark.  "She  can  have 
her  bread  and  milk  like  she  always  does — that's 
simple  'nuff.  But  do  you  think  she  ought  to 
sleep  in  that  handsome  brass  crib?" 

Grace  Margaret  did  not  think  so,  but  she 
was  sadly  puzzled  to  find  a  substitute. 

"Mamma  won't  let  her  sleep  anywhere  else, 
either,"  she  pointed  out. 

"Mamma  won't  know." 

"Annie  or  Katie  will  know — p'r'aps." 

The  "p'r'aps"  was  tentative.  Annie  and 
Katie  had  taken  full  advantage  of  the  liberty 
119 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

attending  the  illness  of  their  mistress,  and  their 
policy  with  the  children  was  one  of  masterly 
inactivity.  So  long  as  the  little  girls  were  quiet 
they  were  presumably  good,  and  hence,  to  a 
surety,  undisturbed.  Still,  it  is  hardly  possible 
that  even  their  carelessness  would  fail  to  take 
account  of  Genevieve  Maud's  unoccupied  bed, 
if  unoccupied  it  proved  to  be. 

"An'  cert 'inly  papa  will  know." 

Helen  Adeline's  last  hope  died  with  this  sud- 
den reminder.  She  sighed.  Of  course  papa 
would  come  to  kiss  his  chicks  good-night,  but 
that  was  hours  hence.  Much  could  be  done  in 
those  hours.  Her  problem  was  suddenly  sim- 
plified, for  even  as  she  bent  her  brows  and 
pondered,  Grace  Margaret  called  her  attention 
to  an  alluring  picture  behind  her.  Under  the 
shelter  of  a  blossoming  white  hydrangea  lay 
Genevieve  Maud  fast  asleep.  It  was  a  dirty 
and  an  exhausted  Genevieve  Maud,  worn  with 
the  heat  and  toil  of  the  day,  scratched  by  bush 
and  brier,  but  wonderfully  appealing  in  her 
helplessness — so  appealing,  that  Helen  Adeline's 
heart  yearned  over  her.  She  conquered  the  mo- 
mentary weakness. 

"/  think,"  she  suggested,  casually,  "she  ought 
to  sleep  in  the  barn." 

1 20 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Grace  Margaret  gasped. 

"It  ain't  a  simple  life  sleepin'  in  lovely  gar- 
dens," continued  the  authority,  with  simple  but 
thrilling  conviction.  "An' — wasn't  the  Infant 
Jesus  born  in  barns?" 

Grace  Margaret  essayed  a  faint  protest. 

"Papa  won't  like  it,"  she  began,  feebly. 

"  He  won't  know.  'Course  we  won't  let  her 
stay  there!  But  just  a  little  while,  to  make  it 
finish  right — the  way  it  ought  to  be." 

The  holding  up  of  such  lofty  ideals  of  con- 
sistency conquered  Grace  Margaret — so  thor- 
oughly, in  fact,  that  she  helped  to  carry  the 
sleeping  Genevieve  Maud  not  only  to  the  barn, 
but  even,  in  a  glorious  inspiration,  to  Rover's 
kennel — a  roomy  habitation  and  beautifully 
clean.  The  pair  deposited  the  still  sleeping 
innocent  there  and  stepped  back  to  survey  the 
effect.  Helen  Adeline  drew  a  long  breath  of 
satisfaction.  "Well,"  she  said,  with  the  con- 
tent of  an  artist  surveying  the  perfect  work, 
"if  that  ain't  simple  lives,  I  don't  know  what 
is!" 

They  stole  out  of  the  place  and  into  the  house. 
The  shadows  lengthened  on  the  floor  of  the  big 
barn,  and  the  voices  of  the  children  in  the  street 
beyond  grew  fainter  and  finally  died  away. 

9  121 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Lights  began  to  twinkle  in  neighboring  win- 
dows. Rover,  returning  from  his  friendly  visit, 
sought  his  home,  approached  its  entrance  con- 
fidently, and  retreated  with  a  low  growl.  The 
baby  slept  on,  and  the  dog,  finally  recognizing 
his  playmate,  stretched  himself  before  the  en- 
trance of  his  kennel  and  loyally  mounted  guard, 
with  a  puzzled  look  in  his  faithful  brown  eyes. 
The  older  children,  lost  in  agreeable  conversa- 
tion and  the  attractions  of  baked  apples  and 
milk  toast,  wholly  forgot  Genevieve  Maud  and 
the  flying  hours. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  their  father  came 
home  and,  after  a  visit  to  the  bedside  of  his 
wife,  looked  to  the  welfare  of  his  children.  The 
expression  on  the  faces  of  the  two  older  ones  as 
they  suddenly  grasped  the  fact  of  his  presence 
explained  in  part  the  absence  of  the  third.  Mr. 
Davenport  had  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  eleven 
years  of  daily  association  with  his  daughter 
Helen  Adeline. 

"Where  is  she?"  he  asked,  briefly,  with  a 
slight  prickling  of  the  scalp. 

In  solemn  procession,  in  their  night-gowns, 
they  led  him  to  her  side ;  and  the  peace  of  the  per- 
fumed night  as  they  passed  through  the  garden 
was  broken  with  explanations  and  mutual  re- 

122 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

criminations  and  expressions  of  unavailing  re- 
gret. Rover  rose  as  they  approached  and  looked 
up  into  his  master's  eyes,  wagging  his  tail  in 
eager  welcome. 

"Here  she  is,"  he  seemed  to  say.  "It's  all 
right.  I  looked  after  her." 

The  father's  eyes  grew  dim  as  he  patted  the 
dog's  fine  head  and  lifted  the  naked  body  of  his 
youngest  daughter  in  his  arms.  Her  little  body 
was  cold,  and  she  shivered  as  she  awoke  and 
looked  at  him.  Then  she  gazed  down  into  the 
conscience  -  stricken  faces  of  her  sisters  and 
memory  returned.  It  drew  from  her  one  of  her 
rare  spontaneous  remarks. 

"Don't  yike  simple  yives,"  announced  Gene- 
vieve  Maud,  with  considerable  firmness.  "  Don't 
yant  to  play  any  more." 

"You  shall  not,  my  babykins,"  promised  her 
father,  huskily.  "  No  more  simple  life  for  Gene- 
vieve  Maud,  you  may  be  sure." 

Later,  after  the  hot  bath  and  the  supper 
which  both  her  father  and  the  trained  nurse 
had  supervised,  Gene  vie  ve  Maud  was  tucked 
cozily  away  in  the  little  brass  crib  which  had 
earlier  drawn  out  the  stern  disapproval  of  her 
sisters.  Her  round  face  shone  with  cold  cream. 
A  silver  mug,  full  of  milk,  stood  beside  her 
123 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

crib,  on  her  suggestion  that  she  might  become 
"firsty"  during  the  night.  Finding  the  occa- 
sion one  of  unlimited  indulgence  and  concession, 
she  had  demanded  and  secured  the  privilege  of 
wearing  her  best  night-gown — one  resplendent 
with  a  large  pink  bow.  In  her  hand  she  clasped 
a  fat  cookie. 

Helen  Adeline  and  Grace  Margaret  surveyed 
this  sybaritic  scene  from  the  outer  darkness  of 
the  hall. 

"  Look  at  her  poor,  perishin'  body  full  of  com- 
forts," sighed  Helen  Adeline,  dismally.  Then, 
with  concentrated  bitterness,  "I  s'pose  we'll 
never  dare  to  even  think  'bout  her  soul  again!" 


c 


V 

HIS  BOY 

APTAIN  ARTHUR  HAMILTON,  of  the 
-th  Infantry,  moved  on  his  narrow  cot, 
groaned  partly  from  irritation  and  partly  from 
pain,  muttered  a  few  inaudible  words,  and  look- 
ed with  strong  disapproval  toward  the  opening 
of  the  hospital  tent  in  which  he  lay.  Through 
it  came  the  soft  breezes  of  the  Cuban  night,  a 
glimpse  of  brilliantly  starred  horizon-line,  and 
the  cheerful  voice  of  Private  Kelly,  raised  in 
song.  The  words  came  distinctly  to  the  help- 
less officer's  reluctant  ears. 

"'Oh,  Liza,  de-ar  Liza,'"  carolled  Kelly,  in 
buoyant  response  to  the  beauty  of  the  evening. 

Captain  Hamilton  muttered  again  as  he  sup- 
pressed a  seductive  desire  to  throw  something 
at  the  Irishman's  head,  silhouetted  against  the 
sky  as  he  limped  past  the  entrance.  Six  weeks 
had  elapsed  since  the  battle  of  San  Juan,  in 
which  Hamilton  and  Kelly  had  been  among 
125 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

the  many  grievously  hurt.  Kelly,  witness  this 
needless  service  of  song,  was  already  convales- 
cent. He  could  wander  from  tent  to  tent  in 
well-meaning  but  futile  efforts  to  cheer  less 
fortunate  mates.  Baker  was  around  again,  too, 
Hamilton  remembered,  and  Barnard  and  Hal- 
lenbeck  and  Lee,  and — oh,  hosts  of  others.  He 
ran  over  their  names  as  he  had  done  countless 
times  before  in  the  long  days  and  nights  which 
had  passed  since  he  had  been  "out  of  it  all," 
as  he  put  it  to  himself.  He  alone,  of  his  fel- 
low officers  in  the  regiment,  still  lay  chained  to 
his  wretched  cot,  a  very  log  of  helplessness,  in 
which  a  fiery  spirit  flamed  and  consumed.  His 
was  not  a  nature  that  took  gracefully  to  in- 
activity; and  of  late  it  had  been  borne  in  upon 
him  with  a  cold,  sickening  sense  of  fear,  new, 
like  his  helplessness,  that  inactivity  must  be  his 
portion  for  a  long,  long  time  to  come.  At  first 
the  thought  had  touched  his  consciousness  only 
at  wide  intervals,  but  now  it  was  becoming  a 
constant,  lurking  horror,  always  with  him,  or 
just  within  reach,  ready  to  spring. 

He  was  "out  of  it  all,"  not  for  weeks  or  even 
for  months,  but  very  possibly  for  all  time.  The 
doctor's  reticence  told  him  this;  so  did  his  own 
sick  heart;  so  did  the  dutiful  cheerfulness  of 

126 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

his  men  and  his  brother  officers.  They  over- 
did it,  he  realized,  and  the  efforts  they  so  con- 
scientiously made  showed  how  deep  their  sym- 
pathy must  be,  and  how  tragic  the  cause  of  it. 
His  lips  twisted  sardonically  as  he  remembered 
their  optimistic  predictions  of  his  immediate  re- 
covery and  the  tributes  they  paid  to  his  courage 
in  the  field.  It  was  true  he  had  distinguished 
himself  in  action  (by  chance,  he  assured  him- 
self and  them),  and  he  had  figured  as  a  hero  in 
the  subsequent  reports  of  the  battle.  But  the 
other  fellows  would  hardly  have  bothered  to 
have  a  trifle  like  that  mentioned,  he  told  him- 
self, if  the  little  glowing  badge  of  fame  he  car- 
ried off  the  field  had  not  been  now  his  sole 
possession.  He  had  given  more  than  his  life 
for  it.  He  had  sacrificed  his  career,  his  place 
in  the  active  ranks,  his  perfect,  athletic  body. 
His  life  would  have  been  a  simple  gift  in  com- 
parison. Why  couldn't  it  have  been  taken?  he 
wondered  for  the  hundredth  time.  Why  could 
not  he,  like  others,  have  died  gloriously  and 
been  laid  away  with  the  flag  wrapped  round 
him?  But  that,  he  reflected,  bitterly,  would 
have  been  too  much  luck.  Instead,  he  must 
drag  on  and  on  and  on,  of  no  use  to  himself  or 
to  any  one  else. 

127 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Again  and  again  he  contemplated  the  dreary 
outlook,  checking  off  mentally  the  details  of 
the  past,  the  depressing  experiences  to  come, 
the  hopelessness  of  it  all;  and  as  his  mind 
swung  wearily  round  the  small  circle  he  de- 
spised himself  for  the  futility  of  the  whole  men- 
tal process,  and  for  his  inability  to  fix  his 
thoughts  on  things  other  than  his  own  mis- 
fortune. A  man  paralyzed;  a  thing  dead  from 
the  waist  down — that  was  what  he  had  become. 
He  groaned  again  as  the  realization  gnawed  at 
his  soul,  and  at  the  sound  a  white-capped  nurse 
rose  from  a  table  where  she  had  been  sitting  and 
came  to  his  bedside  with  a  smile  of  professional 
cheerfulness.  She  had  a  tired,  worn  face,  and 
faded  blue  eyes,  which  looked  as  if  they  had 
seen  too  much  of  human  suffering.  But  an  in- 
domitable spirit  gazed  out  of  them,  and  spoke, 
too,  in  her  alert  step  and  in  the  fine  poise  of 
her  head  and  shoulders. 

"Your  mail  has  come,"  she  told  him,  "and 
there  seem  to  be  some  nice  letters — fat  ones. 
One,  from  Russia,  has  a  gold  crown  on  the 
envelope.  Perhaps  I  had  better  leave  you 
alone  while  you  read  it." 

Hamilton  smiled  grimly  as  he  held  out  a 
languid  hand.     He  liked  Miss  Foster.     She  was 
128 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

a  good  sort,  and  she  had  stood  by  the  boys 
nobly  through  the  awful  days  after  the  fight. 
He  liked  her  humor,  too,  though  he  sometimes 
had  suspicions  as  to  its  spontaneity.  Then  his 
eye  fell  on  the  top  envelope  of  the  little  pack- 
age she  had  given  him,  and  at  the  sight  of  the 
handwriting  he  caught  his  breath,  and  the  blood 
rushed  suddenly  to  his  face.  He  closed  his  eyes 
for  a  moment  in  an  effort  to  pull  himself  to- 
gether. Did  he  still  care,  after  ten  years,  and 
like  that!  But  possibly,  very  probably,  it  was 
merely  a  manifestation  of  his  wretched  weak- 
ness, which  could  not  endure  even  a  pleasant 
surprise  without  these  absurd  physical  effects. 
He  remembered,  with  a  more  cheerful  grin, 
that  he  had  hardly  thought  of  her  at  all  during 
the  past  year.  Preparations  for  war  and  his 
small  part  in  them  had  absorbed  him  heart  and 
soul.  He  opened  the  letter  without  further 
self-analysis,  and  read  with  deepening  interest 
the  closely  written  lines  on  the  thin  foreign 
paper,  whose  left-hand  corner  held  a  duplicate 
of  the  gold  crown  on  the  envelope. 

"  DEAR  OLD  FRIEND, — You  have  forgotten  me,  no 

doubt,  in  all  these  years.     Ten,  is  it  not  ?     But  I  have 

not  forgotten  you,  nor  my  other  friends  in  America, 

exile  though  I  am  and  oblivious  though  I  may  have 

129 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

seemed.  I  do  not  know  quite  why  I  have  not  come 
home  for  a  visit  long  before  this.  Indeed,  I  have 
planned  to  do  so  from  year  to  year,  but  a  full  life 
and  many  varied  interests  have  deferred  the  journey 
one  way  or  another.  I  have  three  boys — nine,  seven, 
and  five — and  it  would  be  difficult  to  bring  them  with 
me  and  impossible  to  leave  them  behind.  So,  you 
see — 

"  But  my  heart  often  longs  for  my  native  land,  and 
in  one  tower  of  this  old  castle  I  have  a  great  room 
full  of  souvenirs  of  home.  It  is  the  spot  I  love  best 
in  my  new  country.  Here  I  read  my  mail  and  write 
my  letters  and  follow  American  news  in  the  news- 
papers friends  send  me.  Here,  with  my  boys  tum- 
bling over  each  other  before  the  fireplace,  I  read  of 
the  ascent  of  San  Juan  Hill,  and  of  you,  my  friend, 
and  your  splendid  courage,  and  your  injury. 

"  No  doubt  by  the  time  this  letter  reaches  you  you 
will  be  well  again,  and  in  no  need  of  my  sympathy. 
But  you  will  let  me  tell  you  how  proud  of  you  I  am. 

"  I  read  the  newspaper  accounts  to  my  boys,  who 
were  greatly  interested  and  impressed  when  they 
learned  that  mamma  knew  the  hero.  I  was  much 
amused  by  the  youngest,  Charlie — too  small,  I  thought, 
to  understand  it  all.  But  he  stood  before  me  with 
his  hands  on  my  knees  and  his  big  brown  eyes  on  my 
face;  and  when  I  finished  reading  he  asked  many 
questions  about  the  war  and  about  you.  He  is  the 
most  American  of  my  children,  and  loves  to  hear  of 
his  mother's  country.  After  the  others  had  gone  he 
cuddled  down  in  my  lap  and  demanded  the  'story* 
repeated  in  full ;  and  when  I  described  again  the  mag- 
nificent way  in  which  you  saved  your  men,  he  said, 
firmly,  '  I  am  his  boy.' 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"  I  thought  yon  might  be  interested  in  this  unsought, 
spontaneous  tribute,  and  my  purpose  in  writing  is  to 
pass  it  on  to  you — though  I  admit  it  has  taken  me  a 
long  time  to  get  'round  to  it! 

"  You  will  forgive  this  rambling  letter,  and  you  will 
believe  me,  now  as  ever, 

"  Sincerely  your  friend, 
"  MARGARET  CHALLONER  VALDRONOVNA." 

Hamilton  slowly  refolded  the  letter  and  re- 
turned it  to  its  envelope,  letting  the  solace  of 
its  sweet  friendliness  sink  into  his  sore  heart 
the  while.  She  had  not  wholly  forgotten  him, 
then,  this  beautiful  woman  he  had  loved  and 
who  had  given  him  a  gracious  and  charming 
camaraderie  in  return  for  the  devotion  of  his 
life.  He  had  not  been  senseless  enough  to  mis- 
construe her  feeling,  so  he  had  never  spoken; 
and  she,  after  two  brilliant  Washington  seasons, 
had  married  a  great  Russian  noble  and  sailed 
away  without  suspecting,  he  felt  sure,  what  she 
was  to  him.  He  had  recovered,  as  men  do,  but 
he  had  not  loved  again,  nor  had  he  married. 
He  wondered  if  she  knew.  Very  probably ;  for 
the  newspapers  which  devoted  so  much  space 
to  his  achievements  had  added  detailed  bio- 
graphical sketches,  over  which  he  had  winced 
from  instinctive  distaste  of  such  intimate  dis- 
cussion of  his  personal  affairs.  The  earlier  re- 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

ports  (evidently  the  ones  she  had  read)  had 
published  misleading  accounts  of  his  injuries. 
They  were  serious,  but  not  dangerous,  ac- 
cording to  these  authorities.  It  was  only 
recently  that  rumors  of  his  true  condition 
had  begun  to  creep  into  print.  The  Princess 
had  not  read  these.  Hamilton  was  glad  of 
that. 

He  recalled  dreamily  the  different  passages 
of  her  letter,  the  remainder  of  his  mail  lying 
neglected  on  his  bed.  That  boy — her  boy — 
his  boy.  He  smiled  to  himself,  at  first  with 
amusement,  then  with  a  sudden  tenderness  that 
pleasantly  softened  his  stern  lips.  He  was  weak 
enough,  frightened  enough,  lonely  enough,  to 
grasp  with  an  actual  pitiful  throb  of  the  heart 
this  tiny  hand  stretched  out  to  him  across  the 
sea.  He  liked  that  boy — his  boy.  He  must 
be  a  fine  fellow.  He  wondered  idly  how  he 
looked.  "Three  boys — nine,  seven,  five" — yes, 
Charlie  was  five  and  had  great  brown  eyes. 
Like  his  mother's,  the  stricken  man  remem- 
bered. She  had  brown  eyes — and  such  brown 
eyes.  Such  kind,  friendly,  womanly  brown 
eyes  —  true  mirrors  of  the  strong  soul  that 
looked  from  them.  Something  hot  and  wet 
stung  the  surface  of  Hamilton's  cheek.  He 
132 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

touched  it  unsuspectingly,  and  then  swore  alone 
in  deep,  frank  self -disgust. 

"Well,  of  all  the  sentimental  idiots!"  he  mut- 
tered. "My  nerves  are  in  a  nice  way,  when  I 
bawl  like  a  baby  because  some  one  sends  me  a 
friendly  letter.  Guess  I'll  answer  it." 

Miss  Foster  brought  him  pen,  ink,  and  paper, 
and  he  began,  writing  with  some  difficulty,  as 
he  lay  flat  on  his  back. 

"  MY  DEAR  PRINCESS, — Your  letter  has  just  reached 
me,  and  you  cannot,  I  am  sure,  imagine  the  cheer 
and  comfort  it  brought.  I  am  still  lingering  unwill- 
ingly on  the  sick-list,  but  there  is  some  talk  now  of 
shipping  me  north  on  the  Relief  next  week,  when  I 
hope  to  give  a  better  account  of  myself.  In  the 
mean  time,  and  after,  I  shall  think  much  of  you  and 
the  boys,  especially  of  the  youngest  and  his  flattering 
adoption  of  me.  I  am  already  insufferably  proud  of 
that,  and  rather  sentimental  as  well,  as  you  will  see 
by  the  fact  that  I  want  his  photograph!  Will  you 
send  it  to  me,  in  care  of  the  Morton  Trust  Company, 
New  York  ?  I  do  not  yet  know  just  where  I  shall  be. 

"There  is  a  pleasant  revelation  of  well-being  and 
happiness  between  the  lines  of  your  letter.  Believe 
me,  I  rejoice  in  both. 

"  Faithfully  yours, 

"ARTHUR  HAMILTON." 

As  he  read  it  over  the  letter  seemed  curt  and 
unsatisfactory,  but  he  was  already  exhausted 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  had  not  the  strength  to  make  another  effort. 
So  he  wearily  sealed  and  addressed  it,  and  gave 
it  to  Miss  Foster  for  the  next  mail.  Her  tired 
eyes  widened  a  little  as  she  artlessly  read  the 
inscription. 

During  the  seemingly  endless  days  and  nights 
that  followed,  Hamilton  battled  manfully  but 
despairingly  with  his  sick  soul.  Wherever  he 
looked  there  was  blackness,  lightened  once  or 
twice,  and  for  an  instant  only,  by  a  sudden  pass- 
ing memory  of  a  little  child.  It  would  be  too 
much  to  say  that  the  memory  comforted  him. 
Nothing  could  do  that,  yet.  All  he  dared  hope 
for  was  for  the  strength  to  go  through  his 
ordeal  with  something  approaching  manliness 
and  dignity.  The  visits  of  his  friends  were  a 
strain  to  him,  as  well  as  to  them,  and  it  was 
sadly  easy  to  see  how  the  sense  of  his  hopeless 
case  depressed  them.  He  could  imagine  the 
long  breath  they  drew  as  they  left  his  tent  and 
found  themselves  again  in  the  rich,  warm, 
healthy  world.  He  did  not  blame  them.  In 
their  places,  he  would  no  doubt  have  felt  just 
the  same.  But  he  was  inevitably  driven  more 
and  more  into  himself,  and  in  his  dogged  ef- 
forts to  get  away  from  self-centred  thought  he 
turned  with  a  sturdy  determination  to  fancies 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

about  remote  things,  and  especially  to  imagin- 
ings of  the  boy — the  little  fellow  who  loved  him, 
and  who,  thank  God,  was  not  as  yet  "  sorry  for 
him!"  Oddly  enough,  the  mother  seemed  to 
have  taken  her  place  in  the  background  of 
Hamilton's  thoughts.  It  was  her  son  who  ap- 
pealed to  him — the  innocent  man-child,  half 
American,  half  Russian,  entering  so  happily  and 
unconsciously  on  the  enhanced  uncertainties  of 
life  in  the  tragic  land  of  his  birth. 

During  the  trying,  stormy  voyage  north  on 
the  great  hospital  ship,  Hamilton  had  strange, 
half -waking  visions  of  a  curly  headed  lad  with 
brown  eyes,  tumbling  over  a  bear-skin  rug  in 
front  of  a  great  fireplace,  or  standing  at  his 
mother's  knee  looking  into  her  face  as  she  talked 
of  America  and  of  an  American  soldier.  He 
began  to  fancy  that  the  vision  held  at  bay  the 
other  crowding  horrors  which  lay  in  wait.  If 
he  could  keep  his  mind  on  that  he  was  safe. 
He  was  glad  the  mother  and  son  could  not,  in 
their  turn,  picture  him — as  he  was. 

When  the  photographs  arrived,  soon  after  he 
reached  New  York,  the  helpless  officer  opened 
the  bulky  package  with  eager  fingers.  There 
were  two  "cabinets,"  both  of  the  child.  One 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

showed  him  at  the  tender  age  of  two,  a  plump, 
dimpled,  beautiful  baby,  airily  clad  in  an  em- 
broidered towel.  The  second  was  apparently 
quite  recent.  A  five-year-old  boy,  in  black 
velvet  and  a  bewildering  expanse  of  lace  collar, 
looked  straight  out  of  the  picture  with  tragic 
dark  eyes,  whose  direct  glance  was  so  like  his 
mother's  that  ten  years  seemed  suddenly  oblit- 
erated as  Hamilton  returned  their  gaze.  With 
these  was  a  little  letter  on  a  child's  note-paper, 
in  printed  characters  which  reeled  drunkenly 
down  the  page  from  left  to  right.  Hamilton 
read  it  with  a  chuckle. 

"  DEAR  CAPTAIN  HAMILTON, — I  love  you  very  much. 
I  love  you  becos  you  fought  in  the  war.  I  have 
your  picture.  I  have  put  a  candle  befront  of  your 
picture.  The  candle  is  burning.  I  love  you  very 
much.  Your  boy, 

"CHARLIE." 

Accompanying  this  epistolary  masterpiece 
was  a  brief  note  from  the  writer's  mother,  ex- 
plaining that  the  "picture"  of  Captain  Hamil- 
ton, of  whose  possession  her  infant  boasted, 
had  been  cut  from  an  illustrated  newspaper  and 
pasted  on  stiff  card-board  in  gratification  of  the 
child's  whim. 

"He  insists  on  burning  a  candle  before  it," 
136 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

she  wrote,  "evidently  from  some  dim  associa- 
tion with  tapers  and  altars  and  the  rest.  As 
it  is  all  a  new  manifestation  of  his  character, 
we  are  indulging  him  freely.  Certainly  it  can 
do  him  no  harm  to  love  and  admire  a  brave 
man.  Besides,  to  have  a  candle  burned  for 
you!  Is  not  that  a  new  flutter  of  glory?" 

Hamilton,  still  in  the  grasp  of  a  dumb  de- 
pression he  would  voice  to  no  one,  was  a  little 
amused  and  more  touched.  In  his  hideous 
loneliness  and  terror  the  pretty  incident,  one  he 
would  have  smiled  at  and  forgotten  a  year  ago, 
took  on  an  interest  out  of  all  proportion  to  its 
importance.  He  felt  a  sudden,  unaccountable 
sense  of  pleasant  companionship.  The  child 
became  a  loved  personality — the  one  human, 
close,  vital  thing  in  a  world  over  which  there 
seemed  to  hang  a  thick  black  fog  through  which 
Hamilton  vaguely,  wretchedly  groped.  He  him- 
self did  not  know  why  the  child  interested 
him  so  keenly,  nor  did  he  try  to  analyze  the 
fact.  He  was  merely  grateful  for  it,  and  for 
the  other  fact  that  he  cherished  no  sentimental 
feeling  for  the  boy's  mother.  That  had  passed 
out  of  his  life  as  everything  else  had  seemingly 
passed  which  belonged  to  the  old  order  of 
things.  He  had  always  been  a  calm,  reserved, 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

self-absorbed,  unemotional  type  of  man,  glory- 
ing a  little,  perhaps,  in  his  lack  of  dependence 
on  human  kind.  In  his  need  he  had  turned  to 
his  fellows  and  turned  in  vain.  Now  that  a 
precious  thing  had  come  to  him  unsought,  he 
did  not  intend  to  lose  it. 

Through  his  physicians  he  pulled  various 
journalistic  wires,  resulting  in  the  suppression, 
in  the  newspapers,  of  the  hopeless  facts  of  his 
case.  He  did  not  intend,  he  decided,  to  have 
his  boy  think  of  him  as  tied  to  an  invalid's 
couch.  Then,  knowing  something  of  human 
nature,  and  of  the  evanescent  character  of 
childish  fancies,  he  ordered  shipped  to  Russia 
a  variety  of  American  mechanical  toys,  calcu- 
lated to  swell  the  proud  bosom  of  the  small  boy 
who  received  them.  This  shameless  bid  for 
continued  favor  met  with  immediate  success. 
An  ecstatic,  incoherent  little  shriek  of  delight 
came  from  the  land  of  the  czar  in  the  form  of 
another  letter;  and  the  candle,  which  quite 
possibly  would  have  burned  low  or  even  gone 
out,  blazed  up  cheerily  again. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  an  intercourse 

which   interested  and   diverted   Hamilton  for 

months.     He   spared   no   pains   to   adapt  his 

letters  to  the  interest  and  comprehension  of 

138 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

his  small  correspondent,  and  he  derived  a 
quite  incredible  amount  of  satisfaction  from 
the  childish  scrawls  which  came  to  him  in  reply. 
They  were  wholly  babyish  documents,  about 
the  donkey,  the  nurse,  the  toys,  and  games  of 
the  small  boy's  daily  life.  Usually  they  were 
written  in  his  own  printed  letters.  Sometimes 
they  were  dictated  to  his  mother,  who  faith- 
fully reported  every  weighty  word  that  fell 
from  the  infant's  lips.  But  always  they  were 
full  of  the  hero-worship  of  the  little  child  for 
the  big,  strong,  American  fighting-man ;  and  in 
every  letter,  sometimes  in  the  beginning,  some- 
times at  the  end,  occasionally  in  both  places, 
as  the  enthusiasm  of  the  writer  waxed,  was  the 
satisfying  assurance,  "/  am  your  boy."  Hamil- 
ton's eyes  raced  over  the  little  pages  till  he 
found  that  line,  and  there  rested  contentedly. 

As  the  months  passed,  the  healing  influence 
of  time  wrought  its  effects.  Hamilton,  shut  in 
though  he  was,  adapted  himself  to  the  narrow 
world  of  an  invalid's  room  and  its  few  interests. 
With  the  wealth  he  had  fortunately  inherited 
he  brought  to  his  side  leading  specialists  who 
might  possibly  help  him,  and  went  through 
alternate  ecstatic  hopes  and  abysmal  fears  as 
the  great  men  came  and  departed.  Very  quiet- 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

ly,  too,  he  helped  others  less  fortunate,  financial- 
ly, than  himself.  The  nurses  and  physicians  in 
the  hospital  where  he  lay  learned  to  like  and 
admire  him,  and  other  patients,  convalescents 
or  new-comers  who  were  able  to  move  about, 
sought  his  cheerful  rooms  and  brought  into 
them  a  whiff  of  the  outside  world.  Through  it 
all,  winding  in  and  out  of  the  neutral-colored 
weeks  like  a  scarlet  thread  of  life  and  hope, 
came  the  childish  letters  from  Russia,  and  each 
week  a  thick  letter  went  back,  artfully  designed 
to  keep  alive  the  love  and  interest  of  an  imagi- 
native little  boy. 

At  the  end  of  six  months  young  Charles  fell 
from  his  donkey  and  broke  his  left  arm,  but  this 
trivial  incident  was  not  allowed  to  interfere 
with  the  gratifying  regularity  with  which  his 
letters  arrived.  It  was,  however,  interesting, 
as  throwing  a  high  light  on  the  place  his  Ameri- 
can hero  held  in  the  child's  fancy.  His  mother 
touched  on  this  in  her  letter  describing  the  ac- 
cident. 

"The  arm  had  to  be  set  at  once,"  she  wrote, 
"  and  of  course  it  was  very  painful.  But  I  told 
Charlie  you  would  be  greatly  disappointed  if 
your  boy  were  not  brave  and  did  not  obey  the 
doctor.  He  saw  the  force  of  this  immediately, 
140 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  did  not  shed  a  tear,  though  his  dear  little 
face  was  white  and  drawn  with  pain." 

Master  Charlie  himself  discussed  the  same 
pleasant  incident  in  the  first  letter  he  dictated 
after  the  episode. 

"I  did  not  cry,"  he  mentioned,  with  natural 
satisfaction.  "Mamma  cried,  and  Sony  a  cried. 
Men  do  not  cry.  Do  they?  You  did  not  cry 
when  you  were  hurt,  did  you?  I  am  going  to 
be  just  like  you." 

Hamilton  laughed  over  the  letter,  his  pale 
cheek  flushing  a  little  at  the  same  time.  He 
had  cried,  once  or  twice;  he  recalled  it  now 
with  shame.  He  must  try  to  do  better,  remem- 
bering that  he  loomed  large  as  a  heroic  model 
for  the  young. 

He  was  still  reading  the  little  letter  when 
Dr.  Van  Buren,  his  classmate  at  the  Point,  his 
one  intimate  since  then,  and  his  physician  now, 
entered  the  room,  greeted  him  curtly,  and  stood 
at  the  window  for  a  moment,  drumming  his 
fingers  fiercely  against  the  pane.  Hamilton 
knew  the  symptoms;  Van  Buren  was  nervous 
and  worried  about  something.  He  dropped 
the  small  envelope  into  his  lap  and  looked  up. 

"Well?"  he  said,  tersely. 
141 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

Van  Buren  did  not  answer  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  turned,  crossed  the  room  abruptly, 
and  sat  down  near  the  reclining-chair  in  which 
the  officer  spent  his  days.  The  physician's 
face  was  strained  and  pale.  His  glance,  usually 
direct,  shifted  and  fell  under  his  friend's  inquir- 
ing gaze. 

"Well?"  repeated  the  latter,  compellingly. 
"I  suppose  you  fellows  have  been  talking  me 
over  again.  What's  the  outcome?" 

Van  Buren  cleared  his  throat. 

"Yes,  we — we  have,  old  man,"  he  began, 
rather  huskily — "in  there,  you  know."  He  in- 
dicated the  direction  of  the  consulting-room  as 
he  spoke.  "We  don't  like  the  recent  symp- 
toms." 

Unconsciously,  Hamilton  straightened  his 
shoulders. 

"Out  with  it.  Don't  mince  matters,  Frank. 
Do  you  think  life  is  so  precious  a  thing  to  me 
that  I  can't  part  with  it  if  I've  got  to?" 

Van  Buren  writhed  in  his  chair. 

"It  isn't  that,"  he  said,  "life  or  death.  It's 
wor — I  mean,  it's  different.  It's — it's  these." 
He  laid  his  hand  on  the  officer's  helpless  legs, 
stretched  out  stiffly  under  a  gay  red  afghan. 
"God!"  he  broke  out,  suddenly,  "I  don't  know 
142 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

how  you'll  take  it,  old  chap;  and  there's  no 
sense  in  trying  to  break  a  thing  like  this  gently. 
We're  afraid — we  think — they'll — have  to  come 
off!" 

Under  the  shock  of  it  Hamilton  set  his  teeth. 

"Why?"  he  asked,  quietly. 

"Because  —  well,  because  they're  no  good. 
They're  dead.  They're  a  constant  menace  to 
you.  A  scratch  or  injury  of  any  kind — they've 
got  to  go — that's  all,  Arthur.  But  we've  been 
talking  it  over  and  we  can  fix  you  up  so  you 
can  get  about  and  be  much  better  off  than  you 
are  now."  He  leaned  forward  as  he  spoke,  and 
his  words  came  quickly  and  eagerly.  The  worst 
was  over;  he  was  ready  to  picture  the  other 
side.  Hamilton  stopped  him  with  a  gesture. 

"  Suppose  I  decline  to  let  them  go  ?"  he  asked, 
grimly. 

Van  Buren  stared  at  him. 

"You  can't!"  he  stammered. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because — why,  because  your  life  depends 
on  their  coming  off!" 

Hamilton's  lips  set. 

"  My  life!"  he  repeated.  "  My  precious,  glad, 
young  life!  So  full  of  happiness!  So  useful!" 
He  dropped  the  savagely  bitter  tone  suddenly. 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"No,  Frank,"  he  said,  quietly,  "I  won't  go 
through  life  as  the  half  of  a  man.  I'll  let  the 
thing  take  its  course ;  or  if  that  will  be  too  slow 
and  too — horrible,  I'll  help  the  hobbling  beast 
on  its  way.  I  think  I'd  be  justified.  It's  too 
much  to  ask — you  know  it — to  be  hoisted 
through  life  as  a  remnant." 

Van  Buren  rose,  moved  his  chair  nearer  to 
Hamilton's,  and  sat  down  close  to  his  friend's 
side.  All  nervousness  had  left  him.  He  was 
again  cool,  scientific,  professional;  but  with  it 
all  there  was  the  deep  sympathy  and  under- 
standing ot  a  friend. 

"No,  you  won't,"  he  said,  firmly;  "you 
won't  do  anything  of  the  kind,  and  I'll  tell  you 
why  you  won't.  Because  it  isn't  in  your  make- 
up to  play  the  coward.  That's  why.  You've 
got  to  go  through  with  it  and  take  what  comes, 
and  do  it  all  like  the  strong  chap  you  are.  If 
you  think  there  won't  be  anything  left  in  life, 
you  are  mistaken.  You  can  be  of  a  lot  of  use; 
you  can  do  a  lot  of  good.  You  will  have  time 
and  inclination  and  money.  You  will  be  able 
to  get  around,  not  as  quickly,  but  as  surely. 
With  a  good  man-servant  you'll  be  entirely  in- 
dependent of  drafts  on  charity  or  pity.  Money 
has  some  beautiful  uses.  If  you  were  a  poor 

144 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

devil  who  hadn't  a  cent  in  the  world  and  would 
be  dependent  on  the  grudging  service  of  others, 
I  should  wish  you  to  accept  and  bear,  perhaps, 
but  I  could  not  urge  you  to.  Now,  your  life  is 
helpful  to  others.  You  can  give  and  aid  and 
bless.  You  can  be  a  greater  hero  than  the  man 
who  went  up  San  Juan  Hill,  and  there  are  those 
who  will  feel  it." 

"That  is,  my  money  is  needed,  and  because 
I've  got  it  I  should  drag  out  years  of  misery 
while  I  spread  little  financial  poultices  on  other 
people's  ills,"  returned  Hamilton.  "No,  thanks; 
it's  not  enough  good.  They  can  have  the  money 
just  the  same.  That  can  be  amputated  with 
profit  to  all  concerned.  I'll  leave  it  to  hospitals 
and  homes  for  the  helpless,  especially  for  frac- 
tional humanity — needy  remnants.  But  I  de- 
cline absolutely,  once  and  for  all,  to  accept  the 
noble  future  you  have  outlined.  I  grant  you 
it  would  be  heroic.  But  have  you  ever  heard 
of  great  heroism  with  no  stimulus  to  arouse  it?" 

He  raised  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  brought 
it  down  with  a  gesture  of  finality.  As  it  fell, 
it  dropped  on  the  little  letter.  Mechancially, 
his  fingers  closed  on  it. 

His  boy!  His  brave  little  boy  who  had  not 
flinched  or  cried,  because  he  meant  to  be  just 

145 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

like  Captain  Hamilton.  What  would  he  think 
when  the  truth  came  to  him  years  hence,  as  it 
must  do.  What  would  she  think  now,  the 
mother  who  was  glad  that  her  son  should  "love 
and  admire  a  brave  man"  ?  The  small  missive 
was  a  stimulus. 

Hamilton  turned  to  Van  Buren  again,  check- 
ing with  a  little  shake  of  the  head  the  impetuous 
speech  that  rushed  to  that  gentleman's  lips. 

"Just  wait  one  moment,"  he  said,  thought- 
fully. He  leaned  back  and  shut  his  eyes,  and 
as  he  did  so  the  familiar  scene  of  months  past 
came  suddenly  before  them — the  quaint  old 
foreign  room,  the  great  fireplace  with  its  blaz- 
ing logs,  the  mother,  the  curly  haired  boy.  His 
life  had  been  a  lonely  one,  always,  Hamilton 
reflected.  Few,  pathetically  few,  so  far  as  he 
knew,  would  be  affected  by  its  continuance  or 
its  end.  But  the  manner  of  its  end — that  was 
a  different  matter.  That  might  touch  individ- 
uals far  and  wide  by  its  tragic  example  to  other 
desperate  souls.  Still,  he  was  not  their  keeper. 
As  for  Charlie — 

Ah,  Charlie!    Charlie,  with  his  childish  but 

utter  hero-worship;    Charlie,  with  his  lighted 

candle;    Charlie,  with  his  small-boy  love  and 

trust — Charlie  would  be  told  some  little  story 

146 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  Charlie  would  soon  forget.  But — what 
would  Charlie  think  of  him  some  day  when  the 
truth  was  out — Charlie  who  at  five  could  set  his 
teeth  and  bear  pain  stoically  because  his  hero 
did!  Because  he  was  "His  Boy!"  Hamilton's 
mind  returned  to  that  problem  again  and  again 
and  lingered  there.  No,  he  could  not  disap- 
point Charlie.  Besides,  Van  Buren  was  right. 
There  was  work,  creditable  work  to  do.  And 
to  be  plucky,  even  if  only  to  keep  a  brave  little 
chap's  ideal  intact,  to  maintain  its  helpful 
activity,  was  something  worthy  of  a  stanch 
man.  Would  he  wish  his  boy  to  go  under  when 
the  strain  against  the  right  thing  was  crushing  ? 

He  laid  the  letter  down  gently,  deliberately, 
turned  to  his  friend,  and  smiled  as  Van  Buren 
had  not  seen  him  smile  since  their  ingenuous 
boyhood  days.  There  was  that  sweetness  in 
the  smile  which  homage  to  woman  makes  us 
dub  "feminine,"  and  something  of  it,  too,  in 
the  way  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  chum's  shoulder. 

"All  right,  old  sawbones,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"You  may  do  whatever  has  to  be  done.  I'll 
face  the  music.  Unbuilding  one  man  may  build 
up  another." 


VI 

THE  COMMUNITY'S  SUNBEAM 

MISS  CLARKSON  looked  at  the  small  boy, 
and  the  small  boy  looked  back  at  Miss 
Clarkson  with  round,  unwinking  eyes.  In  the 
woman's  glance  were  sympathy  and  a  puzzled 
wonder;  the  child's  gaze  expressed  only  a  calm 
and  complete  detachment.  Subtly,  but  un- 
mistakably, he  succeeded  in  conveying  the  im- 
pression that  he  regarded  this  human  object 
before  him  because  it  was  in  his  line  of  vision, 
but  that  he  found  no  interest  in  it,  nor  good 
reason  for  assuming  an  interest  he  did  not  feel : 
that  if,  indeed,  he  was  conscious  of  any  emo- 
tion at  all,  it  was  in  the  nature  of  a  vaguely 
dawning  desire  that  the  object  should  remove 
itself,  should  cease  to  shut  off  the  view  from  the 
one  window  of  the  tenement  room  that  was 
his  home.  But  it  really  did  not  matter  much. 
Already,  in  his  seven  years  of  life,  the  small 
boy  had  decided  that  nothing  really  mattered 

148 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

much,  and  his  dark,  grim  little  face,  with  its 
deep-cut,  unchildish  lines,  bore  witness  to  the 
unwavering  strength  of  this  conviction.  If  the 
object  preferred  to  stay —  He  settled  himself 
more  firmly  on  the  rickety  chair  he  occupied, 
crossed  his  feet  with  infinite  care,  and  continued 
to  regard  the  object  with  eyes  that  held  the  in- 
variable expression  with  which  they  met  the 
incidents  of  life,  whether  these  incidents  were 
the  receiving  of  a  banana  from  Miss  Clarkson's 
hands,  or,  as  had  happened  half  an  hour  before, 
the  spectacle  of  his  dead  mother  being  carried 
down-stairs. 

It  was  not  a  stupid  look;  it  was  at  once 
intent,  unsympathetic,  impersonal.  Under  it, 
now,  its  object  experienced  a  moment  of  actual 
embarrassment.  Miss  Clarkson  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  the  indifferent  gaze  of  human  eyes, 
and  in  her  philanthropic  work  among  the  tene- 
ments she  had  been  somewhat  conspicuously 
successful  with  children.  They  seemed  always 
to  like  her,  to  accept  her ;  and  if  her  undoubted 
charm  of  face,  of  dress,  and  of  smile  failed  to 
win  them,  Miss  Clarkson  was  not  above  resort- 
ing to  the  aid  of  little  gifts,  of  toys,  even  to  the 
pernicious  power  of  pennies.  She  did  good, 
but  she  did  it  in  her  own  way.  She  was  young, 
149 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

she  was  rich,  she  was  independent.  She  helped 
the  poor  because  she  pitied  them,  and  wished 
to  aid  them,  but  her  methods  were  unique,  and 
were  followed  none  the  less  serenely  when, 
as  frequently  happened,  they  conflicted  with 
all  the  accepted  notions  of  organized  philan- 
thropy. 

She  had  come  to  this  room  almost  daily, 
Miss  Clarkson  remembered,  since  she  had  dis- 
covered the  destitute  Russian  woman  and  her 
child  there  a  month  ago.  The  mother  was  dying 
of  consumption;  the  child  was  neglected  and 
hungry — yet  both  had  an  unmistakable  air  of 
birth,  of  breeding ;  and  the  mother's  French  was 
as  perfect  as  the  exquisitely  finished  manner 
that  drew  from  Anne  Clarkson,  in  the  wretch- 
ed tenement  room,  her  utmost  deference  and 
courtesy.  The  child,  too,  had  glints  of  polish. 
Punctiliously  he  opened  doors,  placed  chairs, 
bowed;  punctiliously  he  stood  when  the  lady 
stood,  sat  when  the  lady  sat,  met  her  requests 
for  small  services  with  composure  and  apprecia- 
tion. And  (here  was  the  rub)  each  time  she 
came,  bringing  in  her  generous  wake  the  com- 
forts that  lightened  his  mother's  dreary  journey 
into  another  world,  he  received  her  with  the 
air  of  one  courteously  greeting  a  stranger,  or, 
150 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

at  best,  of  one  seeking  an  elusive  memory  as  one 
surveys  a  half-familiar  face. 

Doggedly  Anne  Clarkson  had  persisted  in  her 
attentions  to  them  both.  The  mother  was  grate- 
ful —  there  was  no  doubt  of  that.  Under  the 
ministrations  of  the  nurse  Miss  Clarkson  sup- 
plied, under  the  influence  of  food,  of  medicines, 
and  of  care,  she  brightened  out  of  the  apathy 
in  which  her  new  friend  had  found  her.  But 
to  the  last  she  retained  something  of  her  son's 
unresponsiveness,  and  an  uncommunicative- 
ness  which  tagged  his  as  hereditary.  She  never 
spoke  of  herself,  of  her  friends,  or  of  her  home. 
She  made  no  last  requests,  left  no  last  messages. 
Once,  as  she  looked  at  her  boy,  her  eyeballs 
exuded  a  film  of  moisture.  Miss  Clarkson  in- 
terpreted this  phenomenon  rightly,  and  quietly 
said: 

"I  will  see  that  he  is  well  cared  for."  The 
sick  woman  gave  her  a  long  look,  and  then 
nodded. 

"You  will,"  she  answered.  "You  are  not  of 
those  who  promise  and  do  not  perform.  You 
are  very  good — you  have  been  very  good  to 
us.  Your  reward  should  come.  It  does  not 
always  come  to  those  who  are  good,  but  it 
should  come  to  you.  You  should  marry  and 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

have  children,  and  leave  this  terrible  country, 
and  be  happy." 

The  words  impressed  Miss  Clarkson,  because, 
as  she  reminded  herself  now,  they  were  almost 
the  last  her  protegee  uttered.  She  considered 
them  excessively  unmodern,  and  strongly  out 
of  place  on  the  lips  of  one  whose  romance  had 
ended  in  disillusionment. 

Well,  it  was  over.  The  mother  was  gone. 
But  the  child  remained,  and  his  future  —  his 
immediate  future,  at  least  —  must  be  decided 
here  and  now.  With  a  restless  movement  Anne 
Clarkson  leaned  toward  him.  In  her  abstrac- 
tion she  had  shifted  her  glance  from  him  for  a 
few  moments,  and  he  had  taken  advantage  of 
the  interval  to  survey  dispassionately  the  toes 
of  the  new  shoes  she  had  given  to  him.  He 
glanced  up  now,  and  met  her  look  with  the  sin- 
gular unresponsiveness  which  seemed  his  note. 

"We're  going  away,  Ivan,"  she  said,  speak- 
ing with  that  artificial  cheerfulness  practised 
so  universally  upon  the  helpless  and  the  young. 
"Mother  has  gone,  you  know,  and  we  can't 
stay  here  any  more.  We're  going  to  the  coun- 
try, to  a  beautiful  place  where  there  are  flowers, 
and  birds,  and  dogs,  and  other  little  boys  and 
girls.  So  get  your  cap,  dear." 
152 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Ivan  looked  unimpressed,  but  he  rose  with 
instant  obedience  and  crossed  the  room  to  its 
solitary  closet.  His  little  figure  looked  very 
trim  in  the  new  suit  she  had  bought  for  him; 
she  noticed  how  well  he  carried  himself.  His 
preparations  for  departure  were  humorously 
simple.  He  took  his  cap  from  its  peg,  put  it 
on  his  head,  and  opened  the  door  for  her  to 
precede  him  in  the  utter  abandonment  of  his 
"home."  Earlier  in  the  day  Miss  Clarkson  had 
presented  to  pleased  neighbors  the  furniture 
and  clothing  of  the  dead  woman,  taking  the 
precaution  to  have  it  fumigated  in  an  empty 
room  in  the  building.  On  the  same  impulse 
she  had  given  to  an  old  bedridden  Irishwoman 
a  few  little  articles  that  had  soothed  the  Rus- 
sian's last  days:  a  small  night-lamp,  a  bed- 
tray,  and  the  like.  Ivan's  outfit,  consisting  sole- 
ly of  the  things  she  herself  had  given  him,  had 
been  packed  in  his  mother's  one  small  foreign 
trunk,  whose  contents  until  then,  Miss  Clark- 
son  observed,  was  an  ikon,  quaintly  framed. 
Of  letters,  of  souvenirs,  of  any  clue  of  any  kind 
to  the  identity  of  mother  and  son,  there  was 
none.  She  felt  sure  that  the  names  they  had 
given  her  were  assumed. 

Stiffly  erect,   Ivan  waited  beside  the  open 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

door.  Miss  Clarkson  gave  a  methodical  last 
look  around  the  dismantled  room,  and  walked 
out  of  it,  the  child  following.  At  the  top  of  the 
stairs  she  turned  her  head  sharply,  a  sudden 
curiosity  uppermost  in  her  mind.  Was  he 
glancing  back?  she  wondered.  Was  he  show- 
ing any  emotion  ?  Did  he  feel  any  ?  He  seem- 
ed so  horribly  mature  —  he  must  understand 
something  of  what  this  departure  meant.  Did 
he,  by  chance,  need  comforting  ?  But  Ivan  was 
close  by  her  side,  his  sombre  black  eyes  looking 
straight  before  him,  his  new  shoes  creaking 
freshly  as  he  descended  the  rickety  steps.  Miss 
Clarkson  sighed.  If  only  he  were  pretty,  she  re- 
flected. There  were  always  sentimental  wom- 
en ready  and  willing  to  adopt  a  handsome  child. 
But  even  Ivan's  mother  would  have  declared 
him  not  pretty.  He  was  merely  small,  and 
dark,  and  foreign,  and  reserved,  and  horribly 
self-contained.  His  black  hair  was  perfectly 
straight,  his  lips  made  a  straight  line  in  his  face. 
He  had  no  dimples,  no  curls,  none  of  the  ap- 
pealing graces  and  charms  of  childhood.  He 
was  seven — seven  decades,  she  almost  thought, 
with  a  sudden  throb  of  pity  for  him.  But  he 
had  one  quality  of  childhood  —  helplessness. 
To  that,  at  least,  the  Community  to  which  she 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

had  finally  decided  to  intrust  him  would  surely 
respond.  She  took  his  small  hand  in  hers  as 
they  reached  the  street,  and  after  an  instinctive 
movement  of  withdrawal,  like  the  startled  flut- 
tering of  a  bird,  he  suffered  it  to  remain  there. 
Together  they  walked  to  the  nearest  corner, 
and  stood  awaiting  the  coming  of  a  trolley-car, 
the  heat  of  an  August  sun  blazing  upon  them, 
the  stifling  odors  of  the  tenement  quarter  fill- 
ing their  nostrils.  Rude,  half -naked  little  boys 
jeered  at  them,  and  made  invidious  remarks 
about  Ivan's  new  clothes;  a  small  girl  smiled 
shyly  at  him;  a  wretched  yellow  dog  snapped 
at  his  heels.  To  these  varying  attentions  the 
child  gave  the  same  quietly  observant  glance, 
a  glance  without  rancor  as  without  interest. 
Miss  Clarkson  experienced  a  sense  of  utter  help- 
lessness as  she  watched  him. 

"Did  you  know  the  little  girl,  Ivan?"  she 
asked,  in  English. 

"Yes,  madam." 

"Do  you  like  her?" 

"No,  madam." 

"Why  not?     She  seemed  a  nice  little  girl." 

There  was  no  response.     She  tried  again. 

"Are  you  tired,  dear?" 

"No,  madam." 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"  Are  you  glad  you  are  going  into  the  country 
and  away  from  the  hot,  dirty  city?" 

"No,  madam." 

"Would  you  rather  stay  here?" 

"No,  madam." 

The  quality  of  the  negative  was  the  same  in 
all. 

Miss  Clarkson  gave  him  up.  When  they  en- 
tered the  car  she  sank  into  a  depressed  silence, 
which  endured  until  they  reached  the  Grand 
Central  Station.  There,  after  she  had  sent  off 
several  telegrams  and  bought  their  tickets,  and 
established  herself  and  her  charge  comfortably 
side  by  side  on  the  end  seat  in  a  drawing-room 
car,  she  again  essayed  sprightly  conversation 
adapted  to  the  understanding  of  the  young. 

"Do  you  know  the  country,  Ivan?"  she 
asked,  ingratiatingly.  "Have  you  ever  been 
there  to  see  the  grass  and  the  cows  and  the 
blue  skies?" 

"No,  madam." 

"You  will  like  them  very  much.  All  little 
boys  and  girls  like  the  country,  and  are  very 
happy  there." 

"Yes,  madam." 

"Do  you  like  to  play?" 

"No,  madam." 

156 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"  Do  you  like  to — to — look  at  picture-books  ?" 

"No,  madam." 

"What  do  you  like  to  do?" 

There  was  no  reply.  Miss  Clarkson  groaned 
inwardly.  Was  he  only  a  little  monosyllabic 
machine?  The  infant  regarded  with  calm  eyes 
the  sweep  of  the  New  York  landscape  across 
which  the  train  was  passing.  His  patron  open- 
ed the  new  novel  with  which  she  had  happily 
provided  herself,  plunged  into  its  pages,  and 
let  herself  rest  by  forgetting  him  for  a  while. 
He  sat  by  her  side  motionless,  observant,  con- 
tinuing to  exude  infinite  patience. 

"He  ought  to  be  planted  on  the  Egyptian 
sands,"  reflected  Miss  Clarkson  once,  as  she 
glanced  at  him.  "He'd  make  a  dear  little 
brother  to  the  Sphinx."  She  stopped  a  train- 
boy  passing  through  the  car  and  bought  him  a 
small  box  of  chocolates,  which  he  ate  uninter- 
ruptedly, somewhat  as  the  tiny  hand  of  a  clock 
marks  the  seconds.  Later  she  presented  him 
with  a  copy  of  a  picture-paper.  He  surveyed 
its  illustrations  with  studious  intentness  for  five 
minutes,  and  then  laid  the  paper  on  the  seat 
beside  him.  Miss  Clarkson  again  fled  to  sanctu- 
ary in  her  novel,  wondering  how  long  pure 
negation  could  enlist  interest. 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

At  the  small  station  where  they  left  the  train 
the  tension  of  the  situation  was  slightly  lessened. 
A  plump  little  woman,  with  a  round  pink  face, 
keen,  very  direct  blue  eyes,  and  live  gray  hair, 
deftly  tooled  a  fat  pony  up  to  the  asphalt,  and 
greeted  them  with  cheerful  informality. 

"  Get  in,"  she  said,  briskly,  after  a  brief  hand- 
shake with  Miss  Clarkson.  "There's  plenty  of 
room  in  the  phaeton.  We  pack  five  in  some- 
times. I  was  sorely  tempted  to  bring  two  of 
the  children;  they  begged  to  come  to  meet  the 
new  boy;  but  it  seemed  best  not  to  rush  him 
in  the  beginning,  don't  you  know,  so  I  left 
Josephine  squalling  behind  the  wood-pile,  and 
Augustus  Adolphus  strangling  manfully  on  a 
glass  of  lemonade  intended  to  comfort  him." 

She  laughed  as  she  spoke,  but  her  blue  eyes 
surveyed  the  boy  appraisingly  as  she  tucked 
him  into  the  space  between  herself  and  Miss 
Clarkson.  He  had  stood  cap  in  hand  during 
the  meeting  between  the  ladies ;  now  he  replaced 
his  cap  upon  his  head,  fixed  his  black  eyes  on 
the  restless  tail  of  the  fat  pony,  and  remained 
submerged  under  the  encroaching  summer  gar- 
ments of  both  women.  Mrs.  Eltner,  presiding 
genius  of  the  Lotus  Brotherhood  Colony,  ex- 
changed an  eloquent  glance  with  Miss  Clarkson 
158 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

as  she  started  the  pony  along  the  winding  rib- 
bon of  the  country  road.  The  New-Yorker's 
heart  lightened.  She  had  infinite  faith  in  the 
plump,  capable  hands  that  held  the  reins;  she 
believed  them  equal  to  anything,  even  to  the 
perplexing  task  of  guiding  the  infant  career  of 
Ivanovitch.  Mrs.  Eltner  prattled  on. 

"Well,"  she  quoted,  in  answer  to  Miss  Clark- 
son's  question,  "they  are  so  well  that  Fraulein 
von  Hoffman  is  in  despair  over  them.  She  has 
some  new  theories  she's  anxious  to  try  when 
they're  ill,  but  throughout  the  year  she  hasn't 
had  one  chance.  Every  blessed  child  is  flam- 
boyantly robust.  Goodness!  Why  shouldn't 
they  be?  In  the  sunshine  from  eight  in  the 
morning  until  six  at  night.  They  have  their 
lessons  in  a  little  roofed  summer-house  in  the 
open  air,  their  meals  in  another,  and  they  al- 
most sleep  in  the  open  air.  There  are  ten  of 
them  now — counting  your  boy" — she  nodded 
toward  the  unconscious  Ivan — "four  girls  and 
six  boys.  None  of  the  parents  interferes  with 
them.  They  sleep  in  the  domitory  with  Frau- 
lein, she  teaches  them  a  few  hours  a  day,  and 
the  rest  of  the  time  we  leave  them  alone.  Frau- 
lein assures  me  that  the  influence  on  their 
developing  souls  is  wonderful."  Mrs.  Eltner 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

laughed  comfortably.  "  It's  all  an  experiment, ' ' 
she  went  on,  more  seriously.  "Who  can  tell 
how  it  will  end?  But  one  thing  is  certain:  we 
have  taken  these  poor  waifs  from  the  New 
York  streets,  and  we  have  at  least  made  them 
healthy  and  happy  to  begin  with.  The  rest 
must  come  later." 

"An  achievement,"  agreed  Miss  Clarkson. 
"  I  hope  you  will  be  as  successful  with  my  small 
charge.  He  is  not  healthy,  and  I  doubt  if  he 
has  ever  known  a  moment  of  happiness.  Pos- 
sibly he  can  never  take  it  in.  I  don't  know — 
he  puzzles  me." 

Her  friend  nodded,  and  they  drove  on  in 
silence.  It  was  almost  sunset  when  the  fat 
pony  turned  into  an  open  gate  leading  to  a  big 
white  colonial  house,  whose  wide  verandas  held 
hammocks,  easy -chairs,  and  one  fat  little  girl 
asleep  on  a  door-mat.  On  the  sweeping  lawn 
before  the  house  an  old  man  lounged  comfort- 
ably in  a  garden-chair,  surveying  with  quiet 
approval  the  efforts  of  a  pretty  girl  in  a  wide 
sunbonnet  who  was  weeding  a  flower-bed  near 
him.  Through  the  open  window  of  a  distant 
room  came  the  sound  of  a  piano.  At  the  left 
of  the  house  a  solitary  peacock  strutted,  his 
spreading  tail  alive  in  the  sun's  last  rays.  The 

1 60 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

effect  of  the  place  was  deliriously  "homey." 
With  eyes  slightly  distended,  Ivan  surveyed 
the  monstrous  fowl,  turning  his  head  to  follow 
its  progress  as  the  phaeton  rolled  around  the 
drive  and  stopped  before  the  wide  front  door. 
The  two  women  again  exchanged  glances. 

"Absolutely  the  first  evidence  of  human  in- 
terest," remarked  Miss  Clarkson,  with  hushed 
solemnity.  The  other  smiled  with  quiet  con- 
fidence. "It  will  come,"  she  predicted;  "it  will 
come  all  right.  We  do  wonders  with  them 
here." 

As  they  entered  the  wide  hall  a  picturesque 
group  disintegrated  suddenly.  A  slender  Ger- 
man woman,  tall,  gray-haired,  slightly  bent, 
detached  herself  from  an  encircling  mass  of 
childish  hands  and  arms  and  legs,  gave  a  hur- 
ried greeting  to  Miss  Clarkson,  of  whom  she 
rather  disapproved,  and  turned  eyes  alight  with 
interest  on  the  new  claimant  for  her  ministra- 
tions. Cap  in  hand,  Ivan  looked  up  at  her. 
Mrs.  Eltner  introduced  them  briefly. 

"Your  new  little  boy,  Fraulein,"  she  said, 
"Ivan  Ivanovitch.  He  speaks  English  and 
French  and  Russian.  He  is  going  to  love  his 
new  teacher  and  his  new  little  friends,  and  be 
very  happy  here." 

161 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Fraulein  von  Hoffman  bent  down  and  kissed 
the  chilling  surface  of  Ivan's  pale  cheek. 

"But  yes,"  she  cried,  "of  a  certainty  he  shall 
be  happy.  We  are  all  happy  here — all,  all. 
He  shall  have  his  place,  his  lessons,  his  little 
duties — but,  ach,  he  is  so  young!  He  is  the 
youngest  of  us.  Still,  he  must  have  his  duty." 
She  checked  her  rapid  English  for  a  courteous 
explanation  to  Miss  Clarkson. 

"Each  has  his  duties,"  she  told  that  lady, 
while  the  line  of  children  lent  polite  interest  to 
her  words,  drinking  them  in,  apparently,  with 
open  mouths.  "  Each  of  us  must  be  useful  to 
the  community  in  some  way,  however  small. 
That  is  our  principle.  Yes.  Little  Josephine 
waters  every  day  the  flowers  in  the  dining-room, 
and  they  bloom  gratefully  for  little  Josephine — 
ach,  how  they  bloom!  Augustus  Adolphus 
keeps  the  wood-box  filled.  It  is  Henry's  task 
to  water  the  garden  plants,  and  Henry  never 
forgets.  So,  too,  it  is  with  the  others.  But 
Ivan — Ivan  is  very  young.  He  is  but  seven, 
you  say.  Yes,  yes,  what  shall  one  do  at  seven  ?" 

Her  rapid,  broken  English  ceased  again  as 
she  surveyed  the  child,  her  blond  brows  knit 
in  deep  reflection.  Then  her  thin  face  lit  sud- 
denly. 

162 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Ach,"  she  cried,  enthusiastically,  "an  inspi- 
ration I  have!  He  is  too  young  to  work  as 
yet,  this  little  Ivan,  but  he  shall  have  his  task, 
like  the  rest.  He  shall  be  our  little  sunbeam. 
He  shall  laugh  and  play  and  make  us  happy." 

With  a  common  hysterical  impulse  Miss 
Clarkson  and  Mrs.  Eltner  turned  their  heads 
to  avoid  each  other's  eyes,  the  former  making 
a  desperate  effort  at  self-control  as  she  gazed 
severely  through  a  window  near  her.  It  was  not 
funny,  this  thing,  she  reminded  herself  sternly; 
it  was  too  ghastly  to  be  funny,  but  there  was  no 
question  that  the  selection  of  Ivan  Ivanovitch 
as  the  joyous,  all-pervasive  sunbeam  of  the 
community  at  Locust  Hall  was  slightly  incon- 
gruous. When  she  could  trust  herself  she 
glanced  at  him.  He  stood  as  he  had  stood  be- 
fore, his  small,  old,  unchildish  face  turned  up 
to  the  German,  his  black  eyes  fixed  unwaver- 
ingly upon  her  gray  ones.  Under  the  glance 
Fraulein's  expression  changed.  For  an  instant 
there  was  a  look  of  bewilderment  on  her  face, 
of  a  doubt  of  the  wisdom  of  her  choice  of  a 
mission  for  this  unusual  new-comer,  but  it  dis- 
appeared as  quickly  as  it  had  come.  With  re- 
covered serenity  she  addressed  him  and  those 
around  him. 

163 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

"But  he  need  not  begin  to-night,"  she  added, 
kindly,  "not  when  he  is  tired.  He  shall  eat, 
he  shall  rest,  he  shall  sleep.  Then  to-morrow  he 
shall  take  his  place  among  us  and  be  the  little 
sunbeam.  Yes,  yes — think  how  far  the  sunbeam 
has  to  travel!"  she  murmured,  inspirationally. 

Miss  Clarkson  knelt  down  before  the  boy  and 
gathered  him  into  her  arms.  The  act  was 
spontaneous  and  sincere,  but  as  she  did  it  she 
realized  that  in  the  eyes  of  the  German,  and 
even  in  those  of  Mrs.  Eltner,  it  seemed  theat- 
rical. It  was  one  of  the  things  Fraulein  von 
Hoffman  disapproved  in  her — this  tendency  to 
moments  of  emotion. 

"Good-night,  Ivan,"  she  said.  "I  am  going 
to  stay  until  morning,  so  I  shall  see  you  then. 
Sleep  well.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  a  happy  lit- 
tle boy  in  this  pleasant  home." 

The  unfathomable  eyes  of  Ivan  Ivanovitch 
looked  back  into  hers. 

"Good -night,  madam,"  he  said,  quietly. 
Then,  as  she  was  about  to  turn  away,  his  small 
face  took  on  for  an  instant  the  dawn  of  an  ex- 
pression. "  Good-night,  madam,"  he  said  again, 
more  faintly. 

Slight  as  the  change  had  been,  Miss  Clark- 
son  caught  it.     She  swayed  toward  him. 
164 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Are  you  homesick,  Ivan?"  she  asked,  cares- 
singly, almost  lovingly.  "Would  you  like  me 
to  take  you  up-stairs  and  put  you  to  bed?" 

Fraulein  von  Hoffman  broke  in  upon  her 
speech. 

"But  they  shall  all  go!"  she  cried.  "It  is 
their  time.  He  will  not  be  alone.  Josephine 
shall  take  him  by  the  hand;  Augustus  Adol- 
phus  shall  lead  the  way.  It  will  be  a  little  pro- 
cession— ach,  yes!  And  he  shall  have  his  sup- 
per in  the  nursery." 

A  chubby,  confident  little  girl  of  nine  de- 
tached herself  from  the  group  near  them  and 
grasped  the  hand  of  Ivan  Ivanovitch  firmly 
within  her  own.  He  regarded  her  stoically  for 
an  instant;  then  his  eyes  returned  to  Miss 
Clarkson's,  who  had  risen,  and  was  watching 
him  closely.  There  was  a  faint  flicker  in  them 
as  he  replied  to  her  question. 

"No,  madam,"  he  said,  gravely.  "Thank 
you,  madam.  Good-night,  madam." 

He  bowed  deeply,  drawing  the  reluctant  fig- 
ure of  the  startled  Josephine  into  the  salute  as 
he  did  so.  A  sturdy  German  boy  of  eleven, 
with  snapping  brown  eyes,  placed  himself  be- 
fore the  children,  his  feet  beating  time,  his 
head  very  high.  "Forward,  march!"  he  cried, 
165 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

in  clear,  boyish  tones.  The  triumphant  Jose- 
phine obeyed  the  command,  dragging  her  charge 
after  her.  Thus  convoyed,  one  companion 
leading,  another  pulling,  the  rest  following  with 
many  happy  giggles,  Ivan  Ivanovitch  marched 
up-stairs  to  bed.  His  life  as  the  community's 
sunbeam  had  begun. 

The  next  morning  Fraulein  von  Hoffman  met 
Miss  Clarkson  in  the  hall,  and  turned  upon  her 
the  regard  of  a  worried  gray  eye.  Miss  Clark- 
son  returned  the  look,  her  heart  sinking  as  she 
did  so. 

"It  is  that  child,"  the  German  began.  "He 
is  of  an  interest — and  ach,  ja!  of  a  discourage- 
ment," she  added,  with  a  gusty  sigh.  "Al- 
ready I  can  see  it — what  it  will  be.  He  speaks 
not;  he  plays  not.  He  gazes  always  from  the 
window,  and  when  one  speaks,  he  says,  'Yes, 
madam'  —  only  that.  This  morning  I  looked 
to  see  him  bright  and  happy,  but  it  is  not  so. 
Is  it  that  his  little  heart  breaks  for  his  mother  ? 
Is  it — that  he  is  always  thus?" 

Miss  Clarkson  shook  her  head  and  then  nod- 
ded, forming  thereby  unconsciously  the  sign  of 
the  cross.  The  combination  seemed  to  answer 
the  German's  questions.  Fraulein  von  Hoffman 
nodded  also,  slowly,  and  with  comprehension. 
166 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  can  do  with  him," 
said  the  American,  frankly.  "  He's  like  that 
all  the  time.  I  asked  his  mother,  and  she  ad- 
mitted it.  I  brought  him  here  because  I  hoped 
the  other  children  might  brighten  him  up,  and 
I  knew  you  could  arouse  him  if  any  one  could." 

The  tribute,  rare  from  Miss  Clarkson,  cheered 
Fraulein  von  Hoffman.  Her  face  cleared.  She 
began  to  regain  her  self-confidence. 

"Ach,  well,"  she  said,  comfortably,  "we  will 
see.  We  will  do  our  best — yes,  of  a  certainty. 
And  we  will  see."  She  strolled  away  after  this 
oracular  utterance,  and  Miss  Clarkson  went  to 
breakfast.  Thus  neither  witnessed  a  scene  tak- 
ing place  at  that  moment  on  the  lawn  near  the 
front  veranda.  Standing  there  with  his  back 
against  a  pillar,  surrounded  by  the  other  chil- 
dren of  the  community,  was  Ivan  Ivanovitch. 
In  the  foreground,  facing  him,  stood  Augustus 
Adolphus,  addressing  the  new-comer  in  firm  ac- 
cents, and  emphasizing  his  remarks  by  waving 
a  grimy  forefinger  before  Ivan  Ivanovitch's  un- 
interested face.  The  high,  positive  tones  of 
Augustus  Adolphus  filled  the  air. 

"Well,  then,  why  don't  you  do  it?"  he  was 
asking,  fiercely.  "You  got  to  do  it!  You  have 
to!  Fraulein  says  so.  The  rest  of  us  has  to 

167 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

do  ours.  I  filled  my  wood-boxes  already,  and 
Josie  watered  the  flowers.  We  did  it  early  so 
we  could  watch  you  being  a  sunbeam,  and  now 
you  ain't  being  one.  Why  ain't  you?  You 
got  to!  Why  don't  you  begin?"  The  con- 
tinued unresponsiveness  of  Ivan  Ivanovitch  ir- 
ritated him  at  this  point,  and  he  turned  ex- 
citedly to  the  others  for  support. 

"  'Ain't  he  got  to  ?"  he  cried.  "  'Ain't  he  got 
to  be  a  sunbeam?  Fraulein  said  he  should  be- 
gin this  morning.  Well,  then,  why  don't  he 
begin?" 

A  childish  buzz  of  corroboration  answered 
him.  It  was  plain  that  the  assignment  of  Ivan's 
mission,  publicly  made  as  it  had  been  the  night 
before,  had  deeply  impressed  the  children  of  the 
community.  They  closed  around  the  two  boys. 
The  small  Josephine  laid  a  propelling  hand  upon 
Ivan's  shoulder  and  tried  to  push  him  forward, 
with  a  vague  idea  of  thus  accelerating  his  task. 

"Begin  now,"  she  suggested,  encouragingly. 
"Do  it,  and  have  it  over.  That's  the  way  I 
do." 

In  response  to  this  maiden  appeal  the  lips 
of  Ivan  Ivanovitch  parted. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  do  it,"  he  announced, 
distinctly.     "How  shall  I  do  it?" 
168 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Augustus  Adolphus  broke  in  again.  "Aw, 
say,  go  on,"  he  urged.  "You  got  to  do  it! 
Why  don't  you,  then?" 

Ivan  Ivanovitch  turned  upon  him  an  eye  in 
which  the  habitual  expression  of  patience  was 
merely  intensified. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  do  it,"  he  said  again, 
speaking  slowly  and  painstakingly.  "You  tell 
me  how;  then  I  will  do  it." 

Under  the  force  of  this  counter-charge,  Au- 
gustus Adolphus  fell  back. 

"I — I — don't  know,  neither,"  he  muttered, 
feebly.  "  I  thought  you  knew.  You  got  to 
know,  'cause  you  got  to  do  it." 

The  eyes  of  the  small  Russian  swept  the  lit- 
tle group,  and  lingered  on  the  round  face  of 
Josephine. 

"You  tell  me,"  he  said  to  her.  "Then  I  will 
do  it." 

Josephine  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"Why,  why,"  she  began,  doubtfully,  "/ 
know  what  it  is.  You  be  a  sunbeam,  you 
know.  I  know  what  a  sunbeam  is.  It's  a 
little  piece  of  the  sun.  It  is  long  and  bright. 
It  comes  through  the  window  and  falls  on  the 
floor.  Sometimes  it  falls  on  us.  Sometimes  it 
falls  on  flowers." 

12  169 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Offered  this  choice,  Ivan  at  once  expressed 
his  preference. 

"I  will  fall  on  flowers,"  he  announced,  with 
decision. 

The  brown  eyes  of  Augustus  Adolphus  glit- 
tered as  he  suddenly  grasped  the  possibilities 
of  the  situation. 

"  No,  you  won't,  neither!"  he  cried,  excitedly. 
"You  got  to  do  it  all!  You  better  begin  now. 
You  can  fall  through  that  window;  it's  open." 
He  indicated,  as  he  spoke,  a  low  French  window 
leading  from  the  living-room  on  to  the  broad 
veranda.  "He's  got  to!"  he  cried,  again. 
"  'Ain't  he  got  to?"  With  a  unanimous  cry  the 
meeting  declared  that  he  had  got  to.  Some  of 
the  children  knew  better;  others  did  not;  but 
all  knew  Augustus  Adolphus  Schmidtt. 

Without  a  word,  Ivan  turned,  walked  up  the 
steps  of  the  veranda,  entered  the  wide  hall, 
swung  to  the  left,  crossed  the  living-room,  ap- 
proached the  window,  and  fell  out,  head  first. 
There  was  something  deeply  impressive  in  the 
silence  and  swiftness  of  his  action,  something 
deliciously  stimulating  to  the  spectators  in  the 
thud  of  his  small  body  on  the  unyielding  wood. 
A  long  sigh  of  happiness  was  exhaled  by  the 
group  of  children.  Certainly  this  was  a  new 

170 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

duty — a  strange  one,  but  worthy,  no  doubt, 
since  it  emanated  from  Fraulein,  and  beyond 
question  interesting  as  a  spectacle.  Augustus 
Adolphus  resolved  in  that  instant  to  attend  to 
his  personal  tasks  at  an  early  hour  each  day, 
that  he  might  have  uninterrupted  leisure  for 
getting  new  falls  out  of  Ivan's.  That  infant 
had  now  found  his  feet,  and  was  methodically 
brushing  the  dust  from  his  clothes.  There  was 
a  rapidly  developing  lump  over  one  eye,  but 
his  expression  remained  unchanged.  Josephine 
approached  him  with  happy  gurgles.  Her 
heart  was  filled  with  womanly  sympathy,  but 
her  soul  remained  undaunted.  She  was  of  the 
Spartan  stuff  that  sends  sons  to  the  war,  and 
holds  a  reception  for  them  if  they  return — from 
victory — on  their  shields.  She  cooed  in  con- 
scious imitation  of  Fraulein 's  best  manner. 
"  Now,  you  can  fall  on  flowers." 

Her  victim  followed  her  unresistingly  to  the 
spot  she  indicated,  and,  having  arrived,  cast 
himself  violently  upon  a  bed  of  blazing  nas- 
turtiums. The  enthusiastic  and  approving 
group  of  children  closed  around  him  as  he  rose. 
Even  Augustus  Adolphus,  as  he  surveyed  the 
wreck  that  remained,  yielded  to  Ivan's  loyal  de- 
votion to  his  rdle  the  tribute  of  an  envious  sigh. 
171 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

"  Now  you  can  fall  on  us,"  he  suggested,  joy- 
fully. Before  the  words  had  left  his  innocent 
lips,  Ivan  had  made  his  choice.  The  next  in- 
stant the  air  was  full  of  arms,  legs,  caps,  and 
hair. 

"Lernme  go!"  shrieked  Augustus  Adolphus, 
battling  wildly  with  the  unsuspected  and  ter- 
rible force  that  had  suddenly  assailed  him. 
"Lemme  go,  I  tell  you!" 

The  reply  of  Ivan  came  through  set  teeth  as 
he  planted  one  heel  firmly  in  the  left  ear  of  the 
recumbent  youth.  "I  have  to  fall  on  you,"  he 
explained,  mildly,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word.  "First  I  fall  on  you;  then  I  let  you 

go." 

There  was  no  question  in  the  minds  of  the 
spectators  that  this  was  the  most  brilliant  and 
successfully  performed  of  the  strange  and  in- 
teresting tasks  of  Ivan.  They  clustered  around 
to  tell  him  so,  while  Augustus  Adolphus  sought 
the  dormitory  for  needed  repairs.  One  of  the 
rules  of  the  community  was  that  the  children 
should  settle  their  little  disputes  among  them- 
selves. Fortunately,  perhaps,  for  Augustus 
Adolphus  he  found  the  dormitory  empty,  and 
was  able  to  remove  from  his  person  the  most 
obvious  evidences  of  one  hoisted  by  his  own 
172 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

petard.  In  the  mean  time  Ivan  Ivanovitch 
was  experiencing  a  new  sensation — the  pleas- 
urable emotion  caused  by  the  praise  of  one's 
kind.  But  he  did  not  show  that  it  was  pleasant 
— he  merely  gazed  and  listened. 

"I  think  your  new  duties  is  nice,"  Josephine 
informed  him,  as  she  gazed  upon  him  with  eyes 
humid  with  approval.  "You  have  to  do  it 
every  day,"  she  added,  gluttonously. 

Ivan  assented,  but  in  his  heart  there  lay  a 
doubt.  Seeking  for  light,  he  approached  Frau- 
lein  von  Hoffman  that  afternoon  as  she  dozed 
and  knitted  under  a  sheltering  tree. 

He  stopped  before  her  and  fixed  her  with  his 
serious  gaze. 

"Does  a  sunbeam  fall  through  windows?"  he 
inquired,  politely. 

Fraulein  von  Hoffman  regarded  him  with  a 
drowsy  lack  of  interest. 

"But  yes,  surely,  sometimes,"  she  admitted. 

"Does  it  fall  always  through  the  window — 
every  day?" 

"But  yes,  surely,  if  it  is  in  the  right  place." 

The  community's  sunbeam  sighed. 

"Does  it  fall  on  flowers  and  on  boys  and 
girls?"  he  persisted. 

"  But  yes,  it  falls  on  everything  that  is  near." 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

A  look  of  pained  surprise  dawned  upon  the 
features  of  Ivan  Ivanovitch. 

"Always?"  he  asked,  quickly.  "Always — 
it  falls  on  everything  that  is  near?" 

Fraulein  von  Hoffman  placidly  counted  her 
stitches,  confirming  with  a  sigh  her  suspicion 
that  in  dozing  she  had  dropped  three. 

"Not  always,"  she  murmured,  absently. 
"But  no.  Only  when  the  sun  is  shining." 

Ivan  carried  this  gleam  of  comfort  with  him 
when  he  went  away,  and  it  is  very  possible  that 
he  longed  for  a  darkened  world.  But  if,  in- 
deed, his  daily  task  was  difficult,  as  it  frequent- 
ly proved  to  be  as  the  days  passed,  there  were 
compensations  —  in  the  school  games,  in  the 
companionships  of  his  new  friends,  in  the  kind- 
ness of  those  around  him.  Even  Augustus 
Adolphus  was  good  to  him  at  times.  Unques- 
tioningly,  inscrutably,  Ivan  absorbed  atmos- 
phere, and  did  his  share  of  the  community's 
work  as  he  saw  it. 

The  theories  of  the  community  were  con- 
sistently carried  out.  In  the  summer,  after 
their  few  hours  of  study,  the  children  were  left 
to  themselves.  Together  they  worked  out  the 
problems  of  their  little  world;  together  they 
discussed,  often  with  an  uncanny  insight,  the 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

grown-ups  around  them.  Sometimes  the  tasks 
of  the  others  were  forgotten ;  frequently,  in  the 
stress  of  work  and  play,  Augustus  Adolphus's 
wood-box  remained  unfulfilled ;  Josephine's  flow- 
ers were  unwatered.  But  the  mission  of  Ivan 
as  a  busy  and  strenuous  sunbeam  was  regularly 
and  consistently  carried  out  —  all  the  children 
saw  to  that.  Regularly,  that  is,  save  on  dark 
days.  Here  he  drew  the  line. 

"Fraulein  says  it  only  falls  on  things  when 
the  sun  shines,"  he  explained,  tersely,  and  he 
fulfilled  his  mission  accordingly.  Fraulein  won- 
dered where  he  had  accumulated  the  choice 
collection  of  bumps  and  bruises  that  adorned 
his  person;  but  he  never  told,  and  apparently 
nobody  else  knew.  Mrs.  Eltner  marvelled 
darkly  over  the  destruction  of  her  favorite 
nasturtium-bed.  Daily  the  stifled  howls  of 
Augustus  Adolphus  continued  to  rend  the  am- 
bient air  when  the  sunbeam  fell  on  him;  but 
he  forbore  to  complain,  suffering  heroically  this 
unpleasant  feature  of  the  programme,  that  the 
rest  might  not  be  curtailed.  Once,  indeed,  he 
had  rebelled. 

"Why  don't  you  fall  on  some  one  else?"  he 
had  demanded,  sulkily.  "You  don't  have  to 
fall  on  me  all  the  time." 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

The  reply  of  the  sunbeam  was  convincing  in 
its  simple  truth. 

"I  do,"  he  explained.  "Fraulein  has  said 
so.  It  must  fall  always  on  the  same  place  if 
it  is  there." 

Augustus  Adolphus  was  silenced.  He  was 
indeed  there,  always.  It  was  unfortunate,  but 
seemed  inevitable,  that  he  should  contribute 
his  share  to  the  daily  entertainment  so  deeply 
enjoyed  by  all. 

It  was,  very  appropriately,  at  Thanksgiving- 
time  that  Ivan's  mission  as  an  active  sunbeam 
ended.  He  was  engaged  in  his  usual  profound 
meditation  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Clarkson, 
who  had  come  to  see  him,  and  who  was  at  the 
moment  digesting  the  information  she  had  re- 
ceived, that  not  once  in  his  months  at  Locust 
Hall  had  he  been  seen  to  smile.  True,  he  seem- 
ed well  and  contented.  His  thin  little  figure 
was  fast  taking  on  plumpness;  he  was  brown, 
bright-eyed.  Studying  him,  Miss  Clarkson  ob- 
served a  small  bruise  on  his  chin,  another  on  his 
intellectual  brow. 

"How  did  you  get  those,  Ivan?"  she  asked. 

For  some  reason  Ivan  suddenly  decided  to 
tell  her. 

"I  fell  through  the  window.  This  one  I  got 
176 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

yesterday" — he  touched  it — "this  one  I  got 
Monday;  this  one  I  got  last  week."  He  re- 
vealed another  that  she  had  not  discovered, 
lurking  behind  his  left  ear. 

"  But  surely  you  didn't  fall  through  the  win- 
dow as  often  as  that!"  gasped  Miss  Clarkson. 
The  small  boy  surveyed  her  wearily. 

"But  yes,"  he  murmured,  in  unconscious 
imitation  of  Fraulein.  "I  must  fall  through 
the  window  every  day  when  the  sun  shines." 

Miss  Clarkson  held  him  off  at  arm's-length 
and  stared  at  him. 

"In  Heaven's  name,  why  ?"  she  demanded. 

Ivan  explained  patiently.  Miss  Clarkson  lis- 
tened, asked  a  few  questions,  gave  way  to  a 
moment  of  uncontrollable  emotion.  Then  she 
called  together  the  other  children,  and  again 
heard  the  story.  It  came  disjointedly  from 
each  in  turn,  but  most  fluently,  most  pictu- 
resquely, most  convincingly,  from  the  lips  of 
Augustus  Adolphus  Schmidtt  and  the  fair  Jo- 
sephine. When  they  had  finished  their  artless 
recital,  Miss  Clarkson  sought  Fraulein  von 
Hoffman.  That  afternoon,  beside  the  big  open 
fire  in  the  children's  winter  play-room,  Fraulein 
von  Hoffman  addressed  her  young  charges  in 
words  brief  but  pointed,  and  as  she  talked  the 
177 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

mission  of  Ivan  at  Locust  Hall  took  on  a  new 
significance,  clear  to  the  dullest  mind. 

"You  were  very  cruel  to  Ivan — ach,  most 
cruel!  And  he  is  not  to  fall  any  more,  any- 
where, on  anything,  you  understand,"  ex- 
plained the  German,  clearly.  "  He  has  no  tasks 
any  more.  He  is  but  to  be  happy,  and  you 
should  love  him  and  take  care  of  him,  because 
he  is  so  small.  That  is  all." 

Ivan  exhaled  a  sigh  of  deep  contentment. 
Then  he  looked  around  him.  The  great  logs 
on  the  andirons  were  blazing  merrily.  In  the 
hands  of  Josephine  a  corn-popper  waved  above 
them,  the  corn  inside  burning  unobserved  as 
she  lent  her  ears  to  Fraulein's  earnest  words. 
Ten  apples,  suspended  on  strings,  swung  from 
the  mantel,  spinning  slowly  as  they  roasted. 
It  was  a  restful  and  agreeable  scene  to  the  eyes 
of  little  Ivan. 

Josephine  felt  called  upon  to  defend  her 
friends. 

"  We  didn't  mean  to  be  cruel,"  she  explained, 
earnestly,  answering  the  one  of  Fraulein's 
charges  which  had  most  impressed  her.  "We 
love  Ivan.  We  love  him  lots.  We  like  to  see 
him  to  be  a  sunbeam,  an'  we  thought  he  liked 
to  be  one.  He  never  said  he  didn't." 
178 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

The  faces  of  his  little  companions  were  all 
around  him.  Ivan  surveyed  them  in  turn. 
They  loved  him  —  lots.  Had  [not  Josephine 
just  said  so?  And  only  yesterday  Augustus 
Adolphus  had  played  marbles  with  him.  It 
was  very  good  to  be  loved,  to  have  a  home,  and 
not  to  be  a  little  sunbeam  any  longer.  Then 
his  eyes  met  those  of  Miss  Clarkson,  fixed  upon 
him  sympathetically. 

"Would  you  like  to  go  away,  Ivan?"  she 
asked,  quietly.  "Would  you  be  happier  some- 
where else?" 

The  eyes  of  Ivan  widened  with  sudden  fear. 
To  have  this  and  to  lose  it! — now,  if  ever,  he 
must  speak!  "Oh  no,"  he  cried,  earnestly; 
"no,  no,  madam!" 

Reassured,  she  smiled  at  him,  and  as  she  did 
so  something  in  her  look,  in  the  atmosphere,  in 
the  moment,  opened  the  boy's  closed  heart. 
He  drew  a  long  breath  and  smiled  back  at  her 
— a  shy,  hesitant,  unaccustomed  smile,  but  one 
very  charming  on  his  serious  little  face.  Miss 
Clarkson's  heart  leaped  in  sudden  triumph.  It 
was  his  first  smile,  and  it  was  for  her. 

"I  like  it  here,"  he  said.  "I  like  it  very 
much,  madam." 

Miss  Clarkson  had  moments  of  wisdom. 
179 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Then  you  shall  stay,  my  boy,"  she  said. 
"You  shall  stay  as  long  as  you  wish.  But, 
remember,  you  must  not  be  a  sunbeam  any 
more." 

Ivan  responded  in  one  word — a  simple,  effec- 
tive word,  much  used  by  his  associates  in  re- 
sponse to  pleasing  announcements  of  holidays 
and  vacations,  but  thus  far  a  stranger  on  his 
lips.  He  threw  back  his  head  and  straightened 
his  shoulders. 

"Hurray!"  he  cried,  with  deep  fervor.  This 
was  enough  for  Augustus  Adolphus  and  the 
fair  Josephine.  "Hurray!"  they  shrieked,  in 
jubilant  duet — "Hurray!  Hurray!" 

The  others  joined  in.  "Hur-ray!"  cried  the 
nine  small  companions  of  Ivan.  He  looked  at 
them  for  a  moment,  his  thin  mouth  twitching. 
They  were  glad,  too,  then,  that  he  was  to  stay! 
He  walked  straight  to  Miss  Clarkson,  buried  his 
face  in  her  lap,  and  burst  into  tears.  For  a 
moment  she  held  him  close,  smoothing  his  black 
head  with  a  tender  hand.  Almost  immediately 
he  straightened  himself  and  returned  to  the 
side  of  Josephine,  shy,  shamefaced,  but  smiling 
again — a  new  Ivan. 

"What  did  you  cry  for?"  demanded  that 
young  lady,  obtusely.  "  Because  you  feel  bad  ?' ' 
180 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

Augustus  Adolphus  replied  for  his  friend,  with 
an  insight  beyond  his  years. 

"You  let  him  alone,"  he  said,  severely.  ''He 
don't  never  cry  when  he  feels  bad ;  he  only  cries 
when  he  feels  good!" 


VII 

IN  MEMORY  OF  HANNAH'S  LAUGH 

HIS  name  was  "'Rastus  Calhoun  Brecken- 
ridge,"  he  announced  the  morning  that  he 
began  his  new  duties  as  janitor  of  the  Adelaide 
apartments,  and  he  at  once  gave  the  tenants 
to  understand  that  no  liberties  were  to  be  taken 
with  it.  He  preferred  it  all  when  he  was  ad- 
dressed in  ordinary  conversation,  he  explained 
to  them,  but  he  had  no  objections  to  the  title, 
"Mistah  Breckenridge,"  when  they  felt  hur- 
ried. This  interested  every  inmate  of  the  Ade- 
laide, and  for  a  few  days  amazingly  amused 
several,  who  gave  play  to  their  fancy  in  the  use 
of  abbreviations  which  struck  them  as  humor- 
ous. Their  jokes  lost  point,  subsequently,  when 
it  was  discovered  that  on  no  occasion  did 
"Mistah  Breckenridge"  respond  to  their  calls 
nor  meet  their  demands — whereas  his  service 
to  all  others  was  swift,  expert,  phenomenally 
perfect.  Thereafter  the  jokers  forswore  indul- 
182 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

gence  of  their  sense  of  humor  and  addressed 
the  janitor  at  full  length  and  with  fuller  defer- 
ence, to  reap  their  reward  with  those  whose 
apartments  were  warm,  whose  reasonable  re- 
quests were  met,  whose  halls  were  clean,  and 
whose  door-knobs  shone  even  as  the  rare  smile 
of  "Mistah  Breckenridge "  himself. 

It  required  no  unusual  powers  of  observation 
to  discover  that  as  a  janitor  the  new  man  was 
the  rare  and  perfect  specimen  who  keeps  alive 
in  a  chilly  world  the  tender  plant  of  faith.  Long 
before  the  sun  was  up  his  busy  mop  and  broom 
were  heard  in  the  land,  and  the  slip-slap  of 
his  carpet  slippers,  flopping  along  the  halls 
as  he  made  his  nightly  round,  was  the  lulla- 
by of  dissipated  souls  who  "retired"  at  eleven. 
Results  followed  with  gratifying  promptness. 
Apartments  long  empty  were  soon  rented,  and 
envious  neighbors  came  to  gaze  in  awe  upon  the 
Adelaide  and  its  presiding  genius,  beholding  in 
it  the  fine  essence  of  New  England  neatness  and 
in  him  a  small,  thin,  nervous,  insignificant-look- 
ing "colored  gemman,"  who  gazed  past  the 
sides  of  their  faces  with  cold  aloofness.  Often, 
neighbors,  passing  the  impressive  entrance, 
heard  from  the  lower  regions  of  the  building  the 
sound  of  a  high  chuckle,  deepening  rapidly  to 
183 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

a  contralto  gurgle,  and  then  broadening  out 
into  a  long,  rich,  velvety  laugh  as  smooth  as 
a  flowing  stream.  No  one  could  hear  that 
laugh  unmoved.  It  rippled,  it  lilted,  it  died 
away,  and  rolled  forth  again  until  the  most 
blast  listener  smiled  in  sympathy,  and  children 
in  the  streets  haw-hawed  in  mindless  glee. 
It  was  the  laugh  of  Hannah — Mrs.  'Rastus  Cal- 
houn  Breckenridge,  as  her  husband  was  careful 
to  explain ;  and  he  once  so  far  forgot  his  dignity 
as  to  add,  expansively,  "  We  got  de  stifkit  dat 
prove  hit,  Hannah  an'  me.  We  got  mah'd,  real 
mah'd,  by  a  pahson." 

Hannah — stout,  indolent,  good-looking,  good- 
natured,  large  enough  to  make  two  small  per- 
sons like  her  husband — chuckled  and  gurgled 
into  her  fruity  laugh. 

"Dat's  de  mos'  pahtickler  man,"  she  volun- 
teered, artlessly.  Then,  seeing  with  wifely  in- 
sight the  first  traces  of  gloom  on  her  lord's 
brow,  she  winked,  trembled  like  a  jelly-fish  in 
a  fresh  convulsion  of  her  exhaustless  mine  of 
mirth,  and  disappeared  into  the  lower  regions, 
to  which,  it  was  said,  her  husband  devoted 
much  more  housewifely  care  than  she  did. 
Usually  he  cooked  his  meals — and  hers.  In- 
variably he  scrubbed  and  swept  the  floors. 
184 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

Not  infrequently  he  washed  and  ironed.  But 
whatever  he  did  and  whatever  he  was,  the 
ripple  of  his  wife's  easy  laughter  followed  him 
like  the  wave  in  the  wake  of  a  puffing  tug ;  and 
as  he  listened,  the  weazened  face  of  "Mistah 
Breckenridge "  took  on  the  expression  of  a 
small  dog  who  hears  his  master's  footsteps  at 
the  end  of  a  dragging  day. 

The  strenuousness  of  life  left  'Rastus  little 
time  for  the  society  of  his  wife,  but  occasion- 
ally on  a  Sunday  afternoon  a  rainbow-hued 
apparition  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Adelaide,  which,  being  resolved  into  its  ele- 
ments, was  recognized  as  "Mistah"  and  Mrs. 
Breckenridge  attired  for  a  walk.  Richly  red 
were  the  hats  of  Hannah,  brilliantly  blue  her 
gown,  glaringly  yellow  her  new  kid  gloves.  Like 
a  rubber-tired  automobile  she  rolled  along  the 
street,  while,  not  a  bad  second  —  immaculate, 
silent,  spatted,  creased,  silk-hatted,  gloved,  and 
lavender  -  tied  —  pattered  her  small  husband. 
He  rarely  spoke  and  never  laughed;  but  there 
was  no  evidence  that  Hannah  missed  these  at- 
tentions; if  she  did,  there  were  numerous  com- 
pensations, one  of  which  she  confided  to  the 
cook  of  the  newly  married  Browns,  on  the  first 
floor. 

13  185 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"'Rastus  suttinly  do  pay  mah  bills,"  she 
murmured,  appreciatively.  And  then,  with  her 
unctuous  laugh,  "An'  ah  suttinly  does  keep  dat 
man  busy  at  hit!" 

Quite  possibly  it  was  this  and  his  other 
occupations  which  for  a  long  time  made  "Mis- 
tah  Breckenridge "  seemingly  oblivious  of  a 
situation  which  deeply  impressed  many  others. 
It  was  the  frequent  presence  in  his  home  of 
another  "colored  gemman" — large,  brilliantly 
attired,  loud-voiced,  and  cheerful — who  called 
upon  Hannah  three  or  four  times  a  week  and 
whiled  away  many  hours  'in  her  stimulating 
society.  Occasionally  her  husband  found  him 
there,  but  if  the  fact  annoyed  him  he  gave  no 
evidence  of  it.  It  was  observed,  too,  that  the 
manner  of  the  visitor  was  gingerly  deferential 
toward  his  host ;  he  evidently  desired  no  trouble 
with  "Mistah  Breckenridge."  Occasionally  he 
took  Hannah  for  a  walk;  several  times  he 
brought  her  simple  offerings  of  chickens  and 
melons,  heartening  her  to  their  consumption 
by  participating  in  the  same.  One  evening  he 
presented  her  with  a  rhine  stone  belt-buckle. 
The  next  morning  "Mistah  Breckenridge" 
sought  young  Haddon  Brown,  the  newly  mar- 
ried, who  happened  to  be  a  lawyer  as  well  as 

1 86 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

a  happy  groom.  Without  preface  or  apology, 
'Rastus  came  to  the  point.  He  wished  a  di- 
vorce from  Hannah.  He  wished  it  to  be  pro- 
cured as  cheaply  as  possible,  but  economy  was 
not  to  interfere  with  its  being  riveted  as  strong- 
ly as  the  law  permitted.  He  had  his  facts  neat- 
ly tabulated.  There  was  no  emotion  on  his 
little  black  face.  At  the  door,  after  young 
Brown  had  promised  to  do  what  he  could  for 
him,  "Mistah  Breckenridge "  paused. 

"Git  it  jes'  as  quick  as  yuh  kin,  Mistah 
Brown,"  he  suggested,  "foh  ef  yuh  don't,  I'se 
feared  Hannah  ain't  a-gwine  tuh  stay  tell  hit 
comes.  Hannah  am  mighty  sudden  sometimes 
in  huh  ways."  With  this  final  tribute  to  his 
spouse,  he  shut  the  door  quietly  and  departed. 

In  due  time  Haddon  Brown  handed  "Mis- 
tah Breckenridge"  the  documentary  evidence 
of  his  freedom,  and  immediately  on  its  receipt 
Hannah  rose,  donned  her  most  radiant  attire, 
shook  out  a  few  farewell  peals  of  laughter,  and 
departed,  closely  followed  by  the  friend  of  the 
family,  beautiful  in  patent-leather  shoes,  new 
gray  spats,  and  a  tie  to  match.  Left  alone, 
'Rastus  rearranged  his  household  possessions, 
watered  the  geraniums  blooming  in  his  base- 
ment windows,  scrubbed,  washed,  answered 
187 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

bells  as  scrupulously  as  of  yore,  and  each  night, 
when  the  work  of  the  day  was  done,  donned 
his  best  clothes,  oiled  his  crinkly  hair,  and  de- 
parted, returning  in  time  for  his  usual  inspection 
of  the  halls  at  eleven  o'clock. 

At  the  end  of  one  month  he  set  a  fresh  ger- 
anium in  the  window,  purchased  a  generous 
supply  of  provisions,  went  forth  attired  like 
Solomon,  and  came  back  holding  in  one  hand 
the  hand  of  a  blushing  bride,  and  in  the  other 
the  "stifkit,"  signed  by  the  negro  minister  who 
had  just  married  them. 

No  two  human  beings  could  have  been  more 
unlike  than  the  former  and  the  present  Mrs. 
'Rastus  Calhoun  Breckenridge.  The  bride  was 
tall,  thin,  chocolate-colored,  serious,  and  hard- 
working. She  toiled  as  steadily  and  as  in- 
defatigably  as  her  husband,  and  to  the  most 
cynical  observer  it  was  plain  that  she  loved 
him  and  valued  him  even  at  his  worth.  She 
cooked  appetizing  meals  for  him,  to  which  he 
did  full  justice ;  she  mended  his  old  clothes  and 
saw  to  it  that  he  bought  new  ones;  she  saved 
his  money;  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  she  pre- 
sented him  with  a  small,  fat,  black  son,  over 
which  'Rastus  hung  in  pathetic  wonder. 

He  himself  had  begun  to  grow  stout.  He 
188 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

put  on  more  flesh  as  three  additional  years 
passed.  He  seemed  well-fed,  happy,  and  pros- 
perous. He  had  money  in  the  bank.  His 
wages  had  been  twice  increased,  and  one  Christ- 
mas the  enthusiastic  tenants  of  the  Adelaide 
had  solemnly  presented  him  with  a  watch,  with 
his  name  and  the  value  of  his  services  inscribed 
in  the  case.  His  little  boy  flourished,  his  silent 
wife  still  adored  him.  The  world  seemed  good 
to  'Rastus. 

One  day  a  dirty  note  was  put  into  his  hand 
by  a  small  black  youth  he  had  never  seen  be- 
fore. It  was  brief  but  pointed: 

"  I  am  sik.  Com  to  Sharty  Hospitl.  Heain'tduin 
nuthen  fer  me.  HANNAH." 

"Mistah  Breckenridge "  carefully  placed  the 
note  in  his  pocket,  put  his  hat  on  his  head,  and 
went  to  the  Charity  Hospital.  It  was  not  hard 
to  find  Hannah.  She  had  not  been  there  long, 
but  the  doctors  and  nurses  liked  her  and  seemed 
to  have  been  expecting  him. 

"  She's  the  life  of  the  place,"  said  one  of  them. 
"  She's  got  a  lot  of  pluck,  too,  and  laughs  when 
we  hurt  her.  She  thinks  she's  going  to  get 
well,  but  she  isn't." 

189 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

The  little  round  face  of  'Rastus  changed  ex- 
pression. 

"She  gwine  tuh  die?"  he  asked,  quickly. 

"Sure,"  was  the  terse  reply. 

"How — how  soon?" 

The  doctor  hesitated.  "In  about  a  month, 
I  think,"  he  said,  finally. 

'Rastus  carried  the  memory  of  the  words 
into  the  ward  where  she  lay,  and  then  felt  a 
quick  sense  of  reaction.  Die?  Why,  this 
was  the  old-time  Hannah,  the  Hannah  of  his 
youth,  the  Hannah  he  had  married.  She  was 
thinner,  but  the  lines  had  smoothed  out  of  her 
face  and  her  big  black  eyes  looked  up  at  him 
as  confidingly  as  the  eyes  of  a  baby.  She 
laughed,  too,  a  little — a  ghost  of  the  old,  fat, 
comfortable  chuckle;  but  there  was  nothing 
of  death  nor  even  of  suffering  about  Hannah 
that  day.  Her  spirit  was  not  yet  overthrown. 

"Ahm  awful  glad  tuh  see  yuh,  honey,"  she 
said.  "Ah  knew  yuh'd  cum." 

'Rastus  sat  down  on  the  wooden  chair  beside 
her  and  fixed  his  little  black  eyes  unwinkingly 
upon  her  face.  In  his  hands  he  held  his  hat, 
which  he  twisted  nervously  between  his  knees 
at  first,  but  finally  forgetfully  dropped  on  the 
floor  as  his  embarrassment  passed.  Propped 
190 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

up  on  her  pillows,  Hannah  chatted  incessantly, 
telling  him  the  small  details  of  her  hospital  life 
and  such  few  facts  of  her  illness  as  she  had 
been  permitted  to  know. 

"I  ain'  got  no  pain,"  she  assured  him — "des 
now,  I  mean.  Bimeby  hit  '11  cum,  like  hit  do 
ebery  aftahnoon,  but  doctah  he  come,  too,  an' 
he  git  de  better  ub  hit,  ebery  time.  He  sure 
am  good  to  me,  dat  man!" 

Her  white  teeth  flashed  in  a  smile  as  she 
talked,  but  the  eyes  she  kept  on  the  man's  face 
had  a  curious  look  of  wonder  in  them. 

"Yuh  look  well,  honey,"  she  said,  finally, 
"an'  yit  yuh  doan  look  well.  How  come  dat? 
You-all  ain'  got  nuffin'  tuh  trouble  yuh,  is 
yuh?" 

'Rastus  hurriedly  assured  her  that  he  had 
not.  He  did  not  mention  his  wife  nor  child, 
of  whose  existence  she  was,  of  course,  per- 
fectly aware;  but  he  dilated  on  the  glories  of 
his  position,  the  size  of  his  income,  and  the 
gift  of  the  watch.  He  pulled  the  last  from 
his  pocket  as  he  spoke  of  it,  and  she  wagged 
her  head  proudly  over  it  and  shamelessly  boast- 
ed to  the  nurse  who  happened  to  come  to  her 
side. 

"Dey  give  dat  to  mah  husban',"  she  said, 
191 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Then  she  mentioned  casually,  with  all  her  old 
naivete",  "Lease ways,  he  wuz  mah  husban' 
oncet." 

"Mistah  Breckenridge "  ignored  this  little 
incident.  His  mind  was  on  practical  things. 

"Yuh  got  all  yuh  want,  Hannah?"  he  asked. 
'"Gaze  ahm  gwine  tuh  git  hit  foh  yuh  ef  yuh 
ain't." 

Hannah,  who  seemed  prepared  for  this  in- 
quiry, responded  to  it  with  much  promptness. 
She  needed  a  wrapper,  she  said,  and  some 
cologne,  and  three  new  night-gowns,  and  "a 
HI  chicking."  'Rastus  wrote  down  each  item 
painstakingly  and  somewhat  ostentatiously  in  a 
hand  suited  to  unruled  paper.  Then  he  bowed 
to  the  nurse,  touched  Hannah's  hand  with  his 
sinewy  little  paw,  and  trotted  out  with  an  air 
of  vast  importance. 

For  several  weeks  the  Adelaide  was  almost 
neglected,  and  puzzled  tenants  sought  the 
janitor  in  vain.  He  was  rarely  home,  but 
Dinah,  dark-browed,  sullen,  red-lidded,  and 
with  a  look  of  suffering  on  her  plain  face,  re- 
sponded to  their  demands  and  did,  so  far  as 
she  could,  her  husband's  work  and  her  own. 
She  made  no  explanation  of  his  absence,  and 
the  last  one  which  would  have  been  accepted 
192 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

was  the  truth — that  day  after  day  "Mistah 
Breckenridge "  sat  by  the  bedside  of  Hannah, 
talking  to  her,  cheering  her,  nursing  her,  feeding 
her  with  the  fruit  he  had  brought  her.  He  had 
almost  superseded  the  nurse;  and  the  doctors, 
watching  the  pair,  let  them  do  much  as  they 
pleased,  on  the  dreary  theory  that  nothing 
Hannah  did  could,  hurt  her  now.  Sometimes 
she  had  hours  of  severe  pain,  during  which  he 
remained  with  her,  holding  her  hand,  soothing 
her,  and  lifting  her  still  great  bulk  in  his  thin 
arms  with  unexpected  strength.  In  her  better 
hours  she  talked  to  him,  telling  him  stories 
about  the  other  patients,  anecdotes  of  nurses 
and  doctors,  and  mimicking  several  luckless 
victims  to  the  life. 

It  was  six  weeks  before  Hannah  died,  very 
suddenly,  and  in  one  of  her  paroxysms  of  suf- 
fering. 'Rastus  was  with  her  at  the  end,  as  he 
had  been  during  the  hard  weeks  preceding  it. 
When  he  realized  that  all  was  over,  he  left  the 
room,  sought  an  undertaker,  had  a  brief  but 
pregnant  interview  with  him,  and  then  disap- 
peared from  the  hospital  and  from  the  city  as 
well.  Where  he  went  no  one  knew,  though 
Dinah,  wellnigh  frantic,  strove  distractedly  to 
learn.  On  the  morning  of  Hannah's  funeral  he 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

returned  and  assumed  a  leading  part  in  that 
melancholy  procession,  long  after  referred  to 
as  "de  mos'  scrumptuous  buryin'"  in  colored 
circles.  Nothing  had  been  omitted  that  she 
would  have  wished.  Tall  plumes  nodded  on 
the  hearse,  many  carriages  gathered  in  the 
mourners,  and  close  behind  the  silver-trimmed 
coffin  which  held  all  that  was  left  of  Hannah 
"Mistah  Breckenridge "  walked  with  leaden 
steps,  his  small  face  drawn  with  grief.  Sub- 
sequently he  drew  most  of  his  savings  from  the 
bank  to  pay  the  bills,  and,  having  paid  them, 
returned  once  more  to  his  anxious  family  and 
the  monotonous  routine  of  life  at  the  Adelaide. 

Dinah  welcomed  him  coldly,  and  went  about 
her  duties  with  her  head  high.  She  said  no 
word  of  reproach,  and  it  was  not  until  several 
weeks  had  passed  that  it  was  borne  in  upon  her 
that  'Rastus  remained  oblivious  not  only  to 
her  just  wifely  resentment,  but  to  most  other 
things  and  emotions  in  life  as  well.  He  did  his 
work,  but  he  ate  little  and  slept  less,  and  the* 
flesh  of  his  prosperous  years  seemed  to  drop 
from  him  even  as  the  startled  beholder  gazed. 
In  despair  Dinah  sought  Haddon  Brown  and 
laid  the  case  before  him. 

"Dat  man  am  suttinly  gwine  lose  his  min'," 
194 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

she  sobbed,  "ef  he  keep  on  like  he  doin'.  Den 
what  gwine  become  of  me  and  dat  in'cen' 
chile!" 

Young  Brown  casually  and  unostentatiously 
looked  'Rastus  over,  and  was  not  satisfied  with 
the  survey.  The  janitor's  lips  were  drawn,  his 
eyes  were  glassy,  his  clothes  hung  loosely  on 
his  shrunken  little  figure.  He  did  his  work  as 
a  manikin  wound  up  for  the  purpose  might 
have  done  it.  There  was  no  spring,  no  energy, 
no  snap.  Mr.  Brown  waited  a  fortnight,  ex- 
pecting some  change.  None  coming,  one  Sun- 
day morning  he  urged  'Rastus  to  go  with  him 
on  a  fishing  trip,  carry  bait,  fish  if  he  wanted 
to,  and  make  himself  generally  useful.  With 
unrelieved  gloom  "Mistah  Breckenridge "  ac- 
cepted the  invitation,  and  the  two  left  the  city 
behind  them,  and  sought  the  peace  of  wood  and 
stream  and  broad,  overarching  sky. 

When  he  had  found  the  shaded  nook  that 
seemed  most  promising,  young  Brown  baited 
his  hook,  dropped  it  into  the  water,  and  gave 
himself  up  to  pleasant  reveries  in  which  poor 
"Mistah  Breckenridge"  had  no  part.  He  had 
good-naturedly  brought  him  out  here  for  rest 
and  change  and  sport  and  pure  air,  he  told 
himself,  but  it  was  hardly  to  be  expected  that 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

he  should  do  more.  He  yawned,  dozed,  and 
surveyed  his  line  without  curiosity;  beside 
him  sat  "Mistah  Breckenridge,"  every  muscle 
of  him  tense,  and  a  light  in  his  eyes  that  was 
not  nice  to  see. 

The  spot  they  had  chosen  was  a  not  infre- 
quented  one  in  the  Bronx  woods,  and  at  in- 
tervals the  sound  of  human  voices  came  to 
them  and  the  light  colors  of  a  woman's  gown 
showed  through  the  trees.  Suddenly  a  laugh 
was  borne  to  their  ears — a  woman's  laugh; 
light,  happy,  irrepressible.  Young  Brown  open- 
ed one  eye.  It  sounded  like  the  laugh  of  a  nice 
girl.  He  looked  lazily  in  the  direction  whence 
it  came.  Then  close  by  his  side  he  heard  a 
thud,  a  groan.  His  companion  had  pitched 
full  length  on  the  ground,  and  lay  there  cry- 
ing with  great,  gasping  sobs,  and  tearing  up 
the  grasses  by  the  roots.  Brown  gazed  aghast, 
startled,  sympathetic,  understanding  dimly,  yet 
repelled  by  this  unmasculine  outburst.  He  be- 
gan to  speak,  but  changed  his  mind  and  waited, 
his  eyes  again  on  the  bobbing  cork  of  his 
line. 

"Mistah  Breckenridge"  cried  a  long  time — 
a  very  long  time,  indeed,  it  seemed  to  young 
Brown,  ill  at  ease  and  wholly  unused  to  such 

196 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

demonstrations.  Then  he  sat  up,  pulled  him- 
self together,  and  turned  a  distorted  face  tow- 
ard the  young  man  who  had  been  so  good  a 
friend  to  him. 

"You-all  know,  Mr.  Brown,  ah  sure  is 
ashamed,"  he  said,  quietly,  "but  ah  feel  bet- 
tah,  an'  ah  guess  hit  done  me  good.  Ah  felt 
like  ah  could  kill  someone  when  we  come  yeah, 
but  ah  feel  differnt  now." 

His  voice  trailed  into  silence.  He  restlessly 
pulled  up  dandelions  and  blades  of  grass  around 
him,  but  his  face  had  relaxed  and  he  seemed 
calm.  Haddon  Brown  murmured  something 
about  a  nervous  strain,  but  the  other  did  not 
seem  to  hear  him. 

"Hit  wuz  dat  lady  lafrm',"  he  said,  suddenly. 
"You-all  know  how  mah  Hannah  use  tuh  laff. 
Mah  gracious!  Yuh  could  heah  dat  woman  a 
mile!  An'  yuh  know,"  he  proceeded,  slowly, 
"hit  done  me  lots  o'  good,  Mistah  Brown,  des 
to  heah  huh.  Ahm  a  silen'  man,  an'  ah  doan 
laff  much,  but  ah  liked  hit  in  Hannah,  ah 
suttinly  did — mighty  well.  Hit  des  made  dis 
mo'nful  ole  wurl'  seem  a  chee'ful  place — hit 
did  indeed." 

Brown  said  nothing.  There  was  nothing  in 
his  mind  that  quite  fitted  the  occasion.  "Mis- 
197 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

tah  Breckenridge "  ripped  a  few  more  dande- 
lions off  their  stems  and  went  on. 

"W'y»  when  dat  woman  lef  me — when  mah 
Hannah  went  away — ah  use  tuh  go  af tah  night 
to  de  place  whah  she  lived,  jes'  to  heah  huh 
laff  again.  Ah'd  stan'  out  in  d'  dahk,  an'  ah'd 
see  huh  shadow  on  de  cu'tin,  an'  den  ah'd 
heah  huh  laff  an'  laff  lak  she  always  done,  an* 
den — ah'd  come  home!  Ah  done  dat  all  dese 
yeahs  sense  mah  Hannah  lef  me.  Dinah's  all 
right.  Ah  ain'  complainin'  none  'bout  Dinah. 
Ah  mah'd  huh  caze  ah  wuz  lonesome,  an'  she 
suttinly  bin  a  good  wife  to  me.  Ahm  goin'  to 
wuk  foh  huh  tell  ah  git  back  all  the  money  ah 
spent  on  Hannah.  Hit  wus  Dinah's  money, 
too.  But "  -  he  burst  out  again  with  a  sudden 
long  wail — "ah  jes'  doan  see  how  ahm  goin' 
tuh  keep  on  livin  in  a  worl'  whah  dey  ain't  no 
Hannah!" 

His  grief  gathered  force  as  he  gave  it  rein. 
He  hurled  himself  down  on  the  ground  again 
and  tore  at  the  grasses  with  his  thin  black 
hands. 

"Oh,  ah  want,  ah  want,  ah  want  tuh  heah 
mah  Hannah  laff  again!"  he  cried,  frenziedly. 

A  fish  nibbled  at  the  bait  on  Brown's  hook, 
changed  his  mind,  flirted  his  fins,  and  swarn 
198 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

away — a  proof  of  the  proverb  about  second 
thoughts.  A  bird  in  the  branches  of  the  tree 
above  the  two  men  burst  into  ecstatic  song. 
But  neither  heard  him.  "  Mistah  Breckenridge  " 
had  buried  his  black  face  in  the  cool  grass, 
his  hot  tears  falling  fast  upon  it.  Beside  him 
young  Brown,  brought  face  to  face  with  ele- 
mental conditions,  sat  silent  and  thought  hard. 


VIII 

THE   QUEST  OF  AUNT  NANCY 

IT  was  in  a  stuffy  compartment  of  a  night 
train  approaching  Paris  that  Jessica  and  I 
were  privileged  to  look  upon  Aunt  Nancy  for 
the  first  time.  Her  obvious  age  would  soon 
have  attracted  our  attention,  no  doubt,  and 
certainly  the  gallantry  with  which  she  carried 
her  eighty  years  could  not  long  have  escaped 
the  observation  of  two  such  earnest  students 
of  humanity  as  we  believed  ourselves  to  be. 
But  the  characteristic  in  her  which  at  once 
caught  my  eye  was  her  expression — a  look  of 
such  keen  alertness,  such  intense  vitality,  that 
even  in  the  mental  stagnation  that  accompanies 
night  travel  I  wondered  what,  in  her  surround- 
ings, could  explain  it. 

The   dingy   carriage   in   which   we   sat   was 
vaguely  illuminated  by  an  oil  lamp,   the  in- 
sufficient rays  of  which  brought  out  effective 
high  lights  on  the  bald  head  of  one  audibly 
200 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

slumbering  German  on  our  side  of  the  com- 
partment, and  on  the  heavy  face  of  a  stout 
Frenchwoman  who  sat  opposite  him,  next  to 
the  old  lady  upon  whom  I  was  concentrating 
my  attention.  The  latter,  obviously  an  Ameri- 
can, the  two  foreigners,  and  ourselves,  were  the 
sole  occupants  of  the  compartment;  and  cer- 
tainly in  the  appearance  of  none  of  her  four 
fellow-passengers  was  there  justification  of  the 
wide-awake  intentness  of  the  kind  old  eyes 
that  now  beamed  on  us  through  heavy,  steel- 
rimmed  spectacles.  Pensively,  as  befitted  the 
weary  wanderer,  I  marvelled.  How  could  she 
look  so  alive,  so  wide  awake,  so  energetic,  at 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning? 

The  bald-headed  man  slept  on.  The  stout 
woman  removed  a  shell  comb  from  her  back 
hair  and  composed  herself  for  deeper  slumber. 
Jessica  presented  to  my  lambent  gaze  a  visage 
which  besought  unspoken  sympathy,  and  mute- 
ly breathed  a  protest  against  travel  in  general 
and  this  phase  of  it  in  particular.  Jessica  in 
the  "still  small  hours"  was  never  really  gay. 
It  was  dimly  comforting  to  one  of  my  com- 
panionable nature  to  turn  from  her  to  the  lit- 
tle old  woman  opposite  me.  In  figure  and 
dress  she  might  have  posed  for  one  of  Leech's 

14  2OI 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

drawings  of  ancient  dames,  so  quaintly  prim 
was  she,  so  precise  in  their  folds  were  her  little 
black  mantle  and  her  simple  black  gown,  so 
effective  a  frame  to  her  wrinkled  face  was  the 
wide  black  bonnet  she  wore.  On  her  hands, 
demurely  crossed  in  her  lap,  were  black  lace 
mitts.  Moreover,  she  was  enveloped,  so  to 
speak,  in  a  dim  aroma  of  peppermint,  the  source 
of  which  was  even  then  slightly  distending  one 
faded  cheek.  Irrepressibly  I  smiled  at  her,  and 
at  once  a  long-drawn  sigh  of  pleasure  floated 
across  to  me.  In  spontaneous  good-fellowship 
she  leaned  forward. 

"It's  a  real  comfortable  journey,  ain't  it?" 
she  whispered,  so  evidently  torn  between  a  pas- 
sionate desire  to  talk  and  consideration  for  the 
sleepers  that  my  heart  went  out  to  her. 

"Well,  if  you  mean  this  especial  journey — " 
I  hesitated. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  she  insisted.  "The  seats  are 
real  comfortable.  Everything  is."  She  threw 
out  her  mittened  hands  with  a  gesture  that 
seemed  to  emphasize  a  demand  for  approval. 
"  I  wouldn't  change  a  single  thing.  Some  say 
it's  hot;  I  don't  think  'tis.  I  wouldn't  mind, 
though,  if  'twas.  We're  gettin'  a  nice  draught." 

I  looked  through  the  open  window  at  the 

202 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

French  landscape,  bathed  in  the  glory  of  an 
August  moon. 

"That,  at  least,  is  very  satisfactory,"  I  ad- 
mitted, cheerfully. 

She  looked  a  little  blank  as  she  glanced 
around,  and  a  queer  expression  of  responsibility 
settled  over  her  features,  blurring  their  bright- 
ness like  a  veil. 

"I  see,"  she  said,  slowly.  "You  mean 
France.  Yes,  'tis  nice,  an'  they's  certainly  a 
great  deal  to  see  in  it."  She  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  went  on  more  rapidly.  "You 
know,"  she  continued,  in  her  high-keyed,  sibi- 
lant whisper,  "it's  some  different  with  me  from 
what  'tis  with  you.  You  can  speak  French. 
I  heard  you  talkin'  to  the  conductor.  An'  I 
suppose  you've  been  here  often,  an'  like  it. 
But  this  is  the  first  time  Tve  come  over  to 
Europe.  I've  always  meant  to,  sometime,  but 
things  ain't  been  just  so's  I  could  come.  Now  't 
I'm  here,  I  can't  stay  long,  an'  I  must  say  I 
feel  kind  of  homesick.  There's  so  much  to  see 
it  jest  makes  my  head  swim.  I  come  for  a  pur- 
pose— a  purpose  of  my  own — but  now  't  I'm 
here,  I  want  to  do  my  duty  an'  see  things.  I 
declare,"  she  added,  shamefacedly,  "I  most 
hate  to  go  to  sleep  nights,  I'm  so  afraid  I'll 
203 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

miss  something  an'  hear  about  it  when  I  git 
back." 

I  asked  a  conventional  question,  which  evoked 
a  detailed  report  of  her  journeyings.  By  this 
time  Jessica  had  opened  one  eye;  the  two  for- 
eigners slept  on  peacefully.  She  had  landed  at 
Naples,  the  old  lady  told  me ;  and  from  her  sub- 
sequent remarks  I  gathered  that  she  had  found 
the  Italians  as  a  people  deficient  in  the  admira- 
ble qualities  of  cleanliness  and  modesty.  She 
lamented,  also,  an  over  -  preponderance  of  art 
galleries,  and  the  surprising  slowness  of  the  na- 
tives to  grasp  intelligent  remarks  made  in  the 
English  tongue.  Aside  from  these  failings,  how- 
ever, she  had  found  Italy  somewhat  interest- 
ing, and  she  mentioned  especially  the  grotto  at 
Capri  and  the  ascent  of  Vesuvius.  She  added, 
casually,  that  few  of  her  fellow  -  tourists  had 
made  this  latter  excursion,  as  it  was  just  after 
the  severest  eruptions,  and  the  air  had  been 
full  of  dust  and  cinders.  Jessica  opened  the 
other  eye.  I  began  to  experience  vivid  interest 
in  the  conversation. 

Rome,  she  further  revealed,  meant  to  her  the 

Campagna  and  the  Catacombs.     On  the  former 

she  had  taken  walks,  and  in  the  very  bowels  of 

the  latter  she  had  seemingly  burrowed  for  days, 

204 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

following  some  mysterious  purpose  of  her  own. 
Her  favorite  time  for  a  promenade  on  the  Cam- 
pagna,  and  one  she  paused  to  recommend  to  me, 
was  at  dusk,  the  place  then  being  quiet  and 
peaceful,  owing  to  the  fact  that  tourists,  fool- 
ishly fearing  the  fever,  kept  away  from  it  after 
sunset. 

At  this  point  Jessica  sat  up,  arranged  a  pillow 
comfortably  behind  her  back,  and  gave  her  un- 
divided attention  to  the  monologue.  At  last 
she  put  a  question.  Was  the  lady  travelling 
alone?  The  lady  hastened  to  explain  that  she 
was  not. 

"My,  no,"  she  said,  briskly.  "I'm  a  tourist 
— that's  what  they  call  'em,  you  know,  when 
they're  with  a  man.  They's  eighteen  in  our 
party,  and  the  man  that  is  takin'  us  is  Mr. 
James  George  Jackson.  He's  real  nice.  He's 
in  one  of  the  other  cars  on  this  train,  an'  they's 
three  gentlemen  with  him  that  belong  to  us,  too. 
All  the  rest  stayed  in  Paris  because  they  was 
tired.  You  see,"  she  added,  explanatorily, 
"we  done  Lourdes  in  two  days,  an'  we  took  it 
off  our  time  in  Paris.  We  ain't  got  much  time 
in  Paris,  anyhow,  so  we  went  an'  come  back  at 
night.  I  s'pose  the  rest  thought  it  might  be 
tryin'  in  the  heat,  so  they  stayed  behind  an' 

205 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

went  to  Fontingblow  yesterday  an'  up  the 
Seen  to-day.  But  I  saw  the  Black  Forest  when 
we  was  in  Germany,  an'  the  Rhine,  too,  an' 
some  of  us  walked  from  Binjen  to  Cooblens, 
so's  we  could  git  the  view  real  well.  So  I 
thought  I'd  let  the  French  river  an'  forest  go, 
an'  see  Lourdes  instead." 

Jessica  interrupted  here. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  asked,  earnestly, 
"  but  —  have  you  really  been  travelling  two 
nights  and  sight-seeing  two  days  in  that  fear- 
ful crush  at  Lourdes  without  any  sleep?" 

Our  new  friend  nodded  slowly,  as  one  to 
whose  attention  the  matter  had  just  been 
directed. 

"Why,  yes,  that's  so,"  she  conceded.  "But 
I  ain't  a  bit  tired.  Old  folks  don't  need  much 
sleep,  you  know,  an'  I'm  pretty  old.  I  was 
eighty-one  last  June." 

Jessica  dropped  her  pillow  and  sat  up  very 
straight,  a  slight  flush  upon  her  face.  Our  new 
friend  prattled  on  until  the  lights  of  Paris  ap- 
peared in  the  distance,  and  Jessica  and  I  began 
to  collect  the  impressive  array  of  impedimenta 
with  which  we  had  thoughtfully  multiplied  the 
discomfort  of  travel.  As  we  pulled  down  pack- 
ages of  rugs  and  tightened  various  straps  the 

206 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

bright  eyes  of  the  little  old  woman  watched  us 
unswervingly  through  her  spectacles.  Grasping 
firmly  a  stout  and  serviceable  umbrella,  she  was 
ready  to  disembark.  If  she  had  brought  any 
baggage  with  her,  which  I  doubted,  it  was  evi- 
dently in  the  fostering  care  of  Mr.  James  George 
Jackson. 

"What  hotel  are  you  goin'  to?"  she  asked, 
suddenly.  "I  know  a  real  good  one." 

I  told  her  it  was  the  St.  James  et  D'Albany, 
and  her  wrinkled  face  grew  radiant. 

"Well,  now,  I  declare,"  she  cried,  heartily, 
"ain't  that  nice!  That's  jest  where  we're 
stayin',  an'  I'm  as  comfor'ble  as  I  can  be.  I 
got  a  room  with  a  window  that  looks  right  into 
the  Twilry  Gardens.  Mr.  Jackson  says  that  I 
must  have  the  best  they  is,  because  I'm  the 
oldest.  'Age  before  beauty,'  he  says,  an'  none 
of  the  other  ladies  minds  a  bit.  They  certainly 
are  good  to  me.  Of  course,  I  don't  say  't  I 
wouldn't  like  a  more  relishin'  breakfast,  because 
I  would;  an'  I  ain't  got  used  to  that  waiter  man 
comin'  right  into  my  room  with  his  trays  before 
I'm  out  of  my  bed,  an'  I  never  expect  to.  But 
'tis  a  good  hotel,  an'  the  lady  that  runs  it  is  real 
nice,  if  she  is  French." 

The  train  swung  into  the  great  station  as  she 
207 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

spoke,  and  a  round,  perspiring,  and  very  grimy 
masculine  face  presented  itself  at  the  door  of 
our  compartment. 

"Well,  Aunt  Nancy,"  said  the  owner  of  this, 
with  a  sprightly  effort  at  cheerfulness,  "you 
alive  yet?  The  rest  of  us  are  dead.  You  come 
right  along  with  me  now,  and  I'll  whisk  you  up 
to  the  hotel  in  a  cab.  And  if  you  take  my  ad- 
vice, you'll  go  to  bed  and  stay  there  for  two 
days,  after  this  experience." 

He  tucked  the  old  lady  under  his  arm  as  he 
spoke,  and  she  trotted  off  with  him  in  high 
good-humor,  turning  several  times  to  nod  and 
smile  at  us  as  she  departed. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  following  morning  I  was 
awakened  by  Jessica,  who  stood  at  my  bedside 
light-heartedly  reminding  me  of  my  self-im- 
posed duty  of  going  early  to  the  station  to  at- 
tend to  the  luggage,  which  we  had  omitted  to 
do  the  night  before.  My  replies  to  this  sugges- 
tion, while  they  held  Jessica's  awe-struck  at- 
tention for  five  minutes,  would  be  of  no  inter- 
est here.  Bitterly  I  rose,  reluctantly  and  yawn- 
ingly  I  dressed.  At  nine  I  stood  at  the  entrance 
of  our  hotel  signalling  sleepily  for  a  cab,  and 
wilting  already  under  the  heat  of  the  August 
sun.  While  I  waited,  a  tourist  coach  drew  up 
208 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

at  the  curb.  It  was  gorgeous  with  red  paint 
and  conspicuous  with  large  signs  bearing  the  let- 
tering "A  VERSAILLES."  The  driver  remained 
on  the  box.  The  guide,  evidently  there  by  ap- 
pointment and  sharply  on  time,  leaped  to  the 
sidewalk,  glanced  at  his  watch,  snapped  the 
case  shut  with  a  satisfied  nod,  and  stood  with 
his  eyes  on  the  hotel  entrance.  One  tiny  black 
figure  came  forth,  greeted  him  with  a  blithe 
"Bongjure,"  and  intrepidly  began  the  perilous 
ascent  of  the  ladder  he  hastened  to  place 
against  the  side  of  the  coach  for  her  convenience. 
It  was  Aunt  Nancy,  dressed  as  she  had  been  the 
night  before,  but  immaculately  neat,  and  re- 
flecting in  her  face  the  brightness  of  the  morn- 
ing. I  greeted  her,  and  in  her  glad  surprise  at 
seeing  me  again  she  remained  suspended  be- 
tween earth  and  heaven  to  talk  to  me,  incident- 
ally revealing  the  whole  of  two  serviceable 
gaiters,  the  tiny  ruffle  of  an  alpaca  petticoat, 
and  a  long,  flat  section  of  gray-striped  cotton 
hose. 

"Well,  well,"  she  beamed.  "Ain't  this  nice? 
Yes,  I'm  goin'.  The  rest  ain't  ready  yet,  but 
I've  been  awake  sence  five,  so  I  thought  I'd 
come  right  down  an'  watch  the  coach  fill  up. 
The  men  ain't  goin' — they're  so  tired,  poor 
209 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

dears.  Onri,  my  waiter,  says  every  last  one  of 
'em  is  in  bed  yit.  But  some  of  the  ladies  that 
went  up  the  Seen  yesterday  is  comin',  so  I  guess 
we'll  have  a  real  nice  party.  We're  goin'  to 
see  the  palace  an'  the  Treenon  first,  an'  then 
I'm  goin'  to  the  fair  in  the  village.  Mr.  Jack- 
son says  a  French  fair  is  real  interestin',  but  he 
ain't  goin'.  He  said  last  night  he  had  a  great 
deal  of  work  to  do  in  his  room  to-day,  an'  he 
guessed  we  wouldn't  none  of  us  see  him  till 
dinner.  Do  you  know" — she  lowered  her  voice 
mysteriously  and  cast  an  apprehensive  eye 
about  her  as  she  went  on — "  Onri  says  Mr.  Jack- 
son's asleep  this  very  minute,  an'  it's  most  nine 
o'clock  in  the  mornin'!" 

These  startling  revelations  were  checked  by 
the  appearance  of  two  of  her  fellow-tourists, 
and  I  seized  the  opportunity  afforded  by  this 
interruption  to  depart  upon  my  uncongenial 
task. 

We  did  not  see  Aunt  Nancy  again  until  the 
morning  of  our  third  day  in  Paris,  when  I  ran 
across  her  in  the  galleries  of  the  Luxembourg. 
She  was  settled  comfortably  in  a  bright-red 
upholstered  seat  near  the  main  entrance,  and 
on  her  wrinkled  face  was  an  expression  of  per- 
fect peace. 

210 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Well,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  resting  at  last," 
was  my  greeting. 

"Yes,  I'm  restin',"  she  conceded.  " I  always 
do  in  the  art  galleries,"  she  added,  simply,  as 
I  sat  down  beside  her.  "They've  got  the  com- 
fort'blest  chairs  here  of  any,  I  think,  though 
they  was  some  nice  ones  in  Florence,  too;  an' 
in  one  of  the  places  in  Rome  they  was  a  long 
seat  where  you  could  'most  lay  down.  I  took 
a  real  nice  nap  there.  You  see,"  she  continued, 
smoothing  an  imaginary  wrinkle  out  of  one  lace 
mitt,  "  I  don't  know  much  about  pictures,  any- 
way, but  I  come  right  along  with  the  others, 
an'  when  I  git  here  I  jest  set  down  an'  rest  till 
they  git  through  lookin'  at  'em.  I  don't  know 
what's  Michelangelo  an'  what  ain't,  an'  't  seems 
to  me  it's  too  late  to  find  out  now." 

Jessica  appeared  at  this  moment,  and  further 
revelations  were  cheeked  by  greetings,  followed 
almost  immediately  by  our  reluctant  departure 
to  keep  an  appointment.  Before  we  left,  how- 
ever, we  learned  that  the  day  at  Versailles  had 
been  followed  by  an  evening  "at  one  of  them 
French  kafes  where  women  sing,"  and  that 
fourteen  hours  of  sight-seeing  in  Paris  itself 
had  dispelled  the  threatened  ennui  of  the  second 
day. 

211 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Late  that  evening  Mr.  James  George  Jackson 
tottered  to  the  side  of  Jessica  in  the  corridor  of 
the  H6tel  D' Albany  and  addressed  her,  wiping 
his  brow  as  he  did  so. 

"It's  the  old  lady,"  he  said— "Aunt  Nancy 
Wheeler,  you  know.  She  asked  me  to  ask  you 
two  ladies  if  you  wouldn't  like  to  join  us  in  a 
drive  this  evening.  She  wants  to  see  how  Paris 
looks  at  night,  an'  I've  got  to  show  her." 

He  swayed  languidly  against  a  pillar  when 
we  had  accepted  the  invitation,  and  groaned 
in  reply  to  Jessica's  tribute  to  the  old  lady's 
activity. 

"She's  active  all  right,"  he  remarked,  grimly. 
"If  there's  anything  left  of  me  after  she  gets 
through,  it  '11  be  because  I've  inherited  an  iron 
constitution  from  my  mother.  She's  worn  out 
every  other  man  in  the  party  weeks  ago.  The 
worst  of  it  is  that  I  don't  know  why  she  does  it. 
She  really  doesn't  care  about  anything;  I'm 
sure  of  that.  But  she's  got  some  object;  so 
she  goes  from  early  morn  till  dewy  eve,  and  of 
course  some  one's  got  to  go  with  her;  we  can't 
let  her  wander  around  alone.  Besides,  what  I'm 
afraid  of  is  that  she'll  go  all  to  pieces  some  day 
—like  the  deacon's  one-horse  shay,  you  know, 
and  there  won't  be  anything  left  but  a  little 

212 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

heap  of  alpaca  clothes  and  congress  gaiters. 
She's  worn  out  six  pair  of  gaiters  since  we  start- 
ed," he  added,  with  a  wail.  "I  know,  because 
I've  had  to  buy  them.  She  hasn't  had  time." 
He  shook  his  head  mournfully  as  he  wandered 
away. 

Jessica  and  I  bade  Aunt  Nancy  an  affecting 
farewell  that  night,  as  we  were  leaving  Paris 
the  next  day.  For  several  weeks  we  heard  no 
more  of  her,  but  in  Scotland  we  crossed  her 
trail  again.  The  Highlands  were  full  of  rumors 
of  an  intrepid  old  dame  who  had  "done"  the 
lakes  and  the  Trossachs  as  apparently  they  had 
never  been  done  before.  Was  she  an  American  ? 
She  was.  Eighty  years  old,  dressed  in  black, 
with  a  big  bonnet,  steel  -  rimmed  spectacles, 
and  gaiters?  All  was  correct  but  the  gaiters. 
Seemingly  the  gaiter  supply  had  been  exhausted 
by  the  constant  demand.  She  wore  shoes  with 
heavy  soles  and,  our  informant  added,  happily, 
gray,  striped  stockings.  From  the  rumors  of 
her  achievements  on  land  and  water,  Jessica 
and  I  glanced  apprehensively  over  the  surface 
of  Scotland,  fearing  to  see  it  strewn  with  ex- 
hausted boatmen,  guides,  and  drivers;  but  ap- 
parently all  her  victims  had  survived,  though 
they  bore  as  a  souvenir  of  their  experience  with 

213 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

her  a  haggard  and  hunted  look  which  Jessica 
declared  she  could  detect  from  the  top  seat  of 
the  loftiest  coach. 

Drifting  down  through  Ireland  we  heard  an- 
other echo  of  Aunt  Nancy.  She  had  ridden  on 
horseback  through  the  Gap  of  Dunloe,  no  diffi- 
cult feat  in  itself,  and  one  achieved  daily  dur- 
ing Killarney's  tourist  season  by  old  ladies  of 
various  countries  and  creeds.  In  Aunt  Nancy's 
case,  however,  it  appeared  that  she  had  been 
able  to  enjoy  that  variety  which  is  so  gratifying 
a  feature  of  human  experience.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  fact  that  she  had  never  been  on  the  back 
of  a  horse  in  her  life,  she  unerringly  selected  the 
freshest  and  most  frolicsome  of  the  Irish  ponies 
as  her  mount.  It  appears  further  that  she  was 
finally  lifted  to  the  saddle  of  this  animal  as  the 
result  of  a  distinct  understanding  between  Mr. 
James  George  Jackson  and  her  guide  that  the 
latter  gentleman  was  not  only  to  accompany 
the  lady  every  foot  of  the  route,  but  was  mean- 
time to  cling  valiantly  to  the  bridle  with  both 
hands.  Unfortunately,  this  arrangement,  so 
deeply  satisfying  to  all,  was  not  ratified  by  the 
mettlesome  Irish  pony;  the  result  being  that, 
after  the  guide  had  been  swept  off  his  feet  by 
a  sudden  and  unexpected  lift  of  the  animal's 
314 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

forelegs,  Aunt  Nancy  and  the  pony  continued 
the  excursion  alone.  Judging  from  the  terse 
words  of  one  of  the  observers,  it  must  have 
been  an  exciting  spectacle  while  it  lasted,  though 
it  passed  all  too  rapidly  beyond  the  line  of  the 
beholder's  longing  vision. 

"Ye  c'u'dn't  tell,"  remarked  this  gentleman, 
sadly,  in  relating  the  accident,  "which  was  the 
harse  an'  which  the  auld  lady,  an'  which  the 
Gap  of  Dunloe!" 

Excited  pursuers  did  not  "catch  'em,"  as 
they  were  urged  to  do  by  the  frenzied  Mr. 
Jackson,  but  they  were  rewarded  by  finding 
various  portions  of  Aunt  Nancy's  wearing  ap- 
parel scattered  along  the  trail.  Items:  one 
black  bonnet,  one  cape,  one  handkerchief,  one 
pair  of  steel  -  rimmed  spectacles.  Apparently 
only  those  garments  securely  fastened  in  place, 
such  as  shoes  and  lace  mitts,  had  survived  the 
experience.  Apparently,  also,  Aunt  Nancy  had 
made  in  almost  unbroken  silence  her  exciting 
mountain  ride.  The  exception  seemingly  oc- 
curred somewhere  in  the  Dark  Valley,  where  a 
mountain  woman,  seeing  her  fly  by,  had  thought- 
lessly urged  her  to  stop  and  buy  a  glass  of  goat's 
milk.  The  woman's  memory  of  the  encounter 
was  slightly  vague,  it  having  ended  so  abruptly, 
215 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

but  she  retained  the  impression  that  Aunt 
Nancy  had  expressed  an  unusual  degree  of  re- 
gret at  being  unable  to  accept  her  invitation. 

"  'Twasn't  till  thin  I  saw  the  poor  harse  was 
crazy  wid  fright,  an'  the  auld  lady's  close  blow- 
in'  over  his  eyes,"  added  the  mountain  woman, 
sympathetically.  "An'  I  couldn't  do  nathin', 
becuz,  begorra,  whin  I  lifted  me  v'ice  to  call 
me  big  bye,  the  auld  woman  an'  the  harse  was 
half-way  down  the  valley." 

Fortunately,  five  or  six  miles  of  this  stimulat- 
ing pace  had  a  blighting  effect  on  the  wild  Hi- 
bernian spirits  of  the  pony,  with  the  result  that 
he  and  his  rider  ambled  at  a  most  sedate  gait 
into  the  space  where  the  row-boats  were  wait- 
ing their  passengers  for  Ross  Castle,  and  where 
the  remaining  members  of  the  party  were  ex- 
pected to  meet.  The  remaining  members  of  the 
party,  for  obvious  reasons,  were  not  yet  there; 
and  the  long  delay  before  their  arrival  gave 
Aunt  Nancy  time  to  replace  the  missing  articles 
of  her  apparel  with  garments  borrowed  from  the 
woman  at  the  refreshment  booth,  and  to  eat 
a  hearty  luncheon.  Thus  refreshed,  she  was 
ready  for  the  fourteen-mile  journey  in  a  row- 
boat  to  Ross  Castle,  which  was  the  next  item 
on  the  programme  of  the  day;  and  she  made 
216 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

it  that  afternoon,  notwithstanding  the  almost 
hysterical  expostulations  of  Mr.  James  George 
Jackson. 

It  was  not  until  we  sailed  for  America  that 
we  looked  again  into  Aunt  Nancy's  dauntless 
eyes.  She  was  the  first  passenger  we  saw  when 
we  reached  the  deck  of  the  Columbia,  and  her  joy 
in  the  encounter  was  as  deep  as  our  own.  We 
chatted  for  a  moment,  and  then  she  darted  off  to 
greet  various  members  of  her  party  from  whom 
side  excursions  had  temporarily  separated  her. 

The  sea  was  slumberously  calm,  bathed  in 
hazy  autumnal  sunshine.  Light-hearted  men 
and  women  in  white  linen  and  pale  flannel  cos- 
tumes strolled  about  the  decks  explaining  to  one 
another  what  good  sailors  they  were,  and  how 
they  hoped  the  sea  would  not  remain  monot- 
onously smooth. 

"  One  wants  a  little  life  and  swing  on  a  ship," 
explained  one  fat,  blond  man  on  whose  face  we 
were  even  then  looking,  though  we  knew  it  not, 
for  the  last  time  in  seven  sad  days.  To  a  unit 
the  passengers  poured  into  the  dining-saloon  at 
the  first  call  for  luncheon.  To  a  unit  they  con- 
sumed everything  on  the  bill  of  fare.  All  was 
peace  and  appetite. 

That  afternoon  the  sea  roused  herself  drowsi- 
is  217 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

ly,  turned  over,  and  yawned.  The  blue  waves 
of  the  morning  were  gone.  In  their  place  were 
huge,  oily,  black  swells,  which  lazily  lifted  the 
Columbia,  held  her  suspended  for  a  long  minute, 
and  then  with  slow,  shuddering  reluctance  let 
her  down,  down,  down.  An  interesting  young 
Scotchman  who  was  sitting  by  Jessica's  side  on 
deck  stopped  suddenly  in  the  midst  of  an  im- 
passioned tribute  to  the  character  of  Robert 
Bruce,  looked  in  her  face  for  an  instant  with 
eyes  full  of  a  horrible  fear,  and  hastily  joined 
a  stout  German  in  a  spirited  foot-race  to  the 
nearest  companionway.  A  High-church  Eng- 
lish divine,  who  had  met  me  half  an  hour  be- 
fore and  had  hastened  to  spare  me  future  heart- 
aches by  explaining  at  once  that  he  was  mar- 
ried, rose  abruptly  from  his  chair  beside  me 
and  wobbled  uncertainly  to  the  deck-rail, 
where  he  hung  suspended  in  an  attitude  of 
pathetic  resignation.  Thus  recalled  to  the  grim 
realities  of  life,  Jessica  and  I  looked  up  and 
down  the  deck.  It  was  deserted — deserted  save 
for  a  little  black  figure  that  trotted  rapidly  past 
us,  clutching  occasionally  at  the  empty  air  for 
support  as  she  was  hurled  from  one  side  to  the 
other  of  the  glistening  deck,  but  cheerful,  un- 
daunted, and  happy. 

218 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"I  got  to  have  some  exercise,"  panted  Aunt 
Nancy,  as  she  reclined  for  an  instant  in  my 
lap,  where  a  lurch  of  the  ship  had  deposited  her ; 
"so  I'm  takin'  a  little  walk."  She  was  still 
walking  when  Jessica  and  I  retreated  hurriedly 
to  our  cabin. 

The  days  that  followed  are  too  sad  to  be  de- 
scribed by  the  most  sympathetic  pen.  The 
sea,  moved  to  her  uttermost  depths  as  she  had 
not  been  in  twenty-five  years,  resented  fiercely 
the  presence  of  the  Columbia  on  her  disturbed 
bosom.  Madly  she  cast  her  from  her;  with 
feline  treachery  she  drew  her  back  again,  and 
sought  to  tear  apart  her  mighty  timbers.  Groan- 
ingly,  agonizingly,  pluckily,  the  Columbia  bore 
all  —  and  revenged  herself  on  her  passengers. 
She  stood  on  her  head,  and  sent  them,  so  to 
speak,  into  her  prow.  She  rose  up  on  her  stern, 
and  scattered  them  aft.  She  stood  still  and 
shuddered.  She  lay  down  on  her  left  side  until 
she  had  imperilled  the  heart  action  of  every 
person  on  board;  she  rolled  over  on  her  right 
side  and  started  briskly  toward  the  bottom  of 
the  sea.  She  recovered  herself,  leaped  up  and 
down  a  few  times  to  prove  that  she  was  still 
intact,  and  did  it  all  over  again.  Meanwhile  the 
passengers,  locked  below  and  sternly  command- 
219 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

ed  to  keep  to  their  cabins,  held  fast  to  the  sides 
of  their  berths  and  prayed  fervently  for  death. 

Neither  Jessica  nor  I  was  actively  ill,  but 
Jessica's  indifference  to  food  and  social  inter- 
course was  marked  in  the  extreme.  Stretched 
on  her  back  in  the  berth  opposite  my  own,  she 
lay  day  and  night  with  closed  eyes  and  for- 
bidding demeanor,  rousing  herself  only  long 
enough  to  repel  fiercely  any  suggestion  that  she 
take  nourishment.  Also,  she  funished  me  with 
one  life-long  memory.  From  sheer  ennui  I  or- 
dered and  devoured  at  noon  on  the  third  day  a 
large  portion  of  steamed  peach  dumpling,  with 
hard  sauce.  The  look  which  Jessica  cast  first 
upon  this  dish  and  then  upon  me  will  always, 
I  think,  remain  the  dominant  feature  of  my 
most  troubled  dreams. 

During  this  time  I  had  not  forgotten  Aunt 
Nancy,  though  I  am  sure  Jessica  had.  Her 
cabin,  however,  while  on  the  same  deck  as  our 
own,  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  ship,  and  I 
had  grave  doubts  of  my  ability  to  cover  safely 
the  distance  between.  Finally  I  attempted  it, 
and,  aside  from  the  slight  incidents  of  blacking 
one  eye  in  an  unexpected  diversion  to  the  rail, 
and  subsequently  being  hurled  violently  against 
the  back  of  an  axe  nailed  to  the  wall,  I  made 
220 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

the  passage  in  safety.  Aunt  Nancy  was  not  in 
her  cabin,  but  a  hollow  groan  from  the  upper 
berth  betrayed  the  fact  that  her  room-mate  was. 
From  this  lady  I  was  unfortunately  unable  to 
extract  any  information.  She  seemed  to  feel 
that  I  was  mercifully  sent  to  chloroform  her 
out  of  existence,  and  her  disappointment  over 
my  failure  to  play  this  Samaritan  role  was  so 
bitter  that  I  was  forced  to  withdraw  lest  she 
should  utter  things  unbefitting  a  gentlewoman. 

Down  the  long  corridor,  as  I  groped  my  way 
back,  something  blew  toward  me  like  a  wraith 
from  the  sea.  It  wore  a  gray,  woolly  bath- 
robe, a  tiny  wisp  of  white  hair  fastened  pre- 
cariously with  one  hair-pin,  and  a  pair  of 
knitted  bedroom  slippers.  It  was  Aunt  Nancy, 
and  we  executed  then  and  there  an  intricate 
pas  de  deux  in  our  common  efforts  to  meet. 
Finally  the  Columbia  ceased  her  individual  evo- 
lutions long  enough  to  enable  us  to  grasp  the 
passage-rail. 

"  I've  been  in  your  cabin,"  I  explained,  above 
the  roar  of  wave  and  wind,  as  we  stood  facing 
each  other.  "I  was  afraid  you  were  ill." 

Aunt  Nancy  looked  almost  pained  at  such  a 
suspicion. 

"My,    no,"    she   disavowed,    hastily;     "but 

221 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

there's  them  that  is,"  she  conceded.  "I've 
been  to  see — let  me  see — thirty  of  'em  to-day — 
men  an'  women  both.  Poor  Mr.  Jackson's 
about  the  worst.  I  never  see  such  a  sick  man. 
I  got  this  cracked  ice  for  him,"  she  added,  look- 
ing down  at  the  glass  she  was  clasping  to  her 
bosom  with  her  free  hand.  "I'd  'a'  looked  in 
on  you,"  she  added,  kindly,  "if  I  hadn't  been 
so  busy,  but  I  heard  you  wa'n't  neither  of  you 
sick." 

I  explained  with  some  effort  that  I  felt  com- 
fortable as  long  as  I  lay  still,  but  that  as  soon 
as  I  was  on  my  feet,  the  motion —  We  parted 
hurriedly. 

On  the  morning  of  the  sixth  day  Jessica 
turned  over  in  her  berth,  removed  from  her  spine 
a  fork  which  had  seemingly  been  there  all  the 
week,  regarded  it  with  strong  disfavor,  and 
announced  briefly  that  she  was  going  above. 
We  went.  The  decks  were  still  wet,  and  the 
steamer-chairs  were  securely  lashed  in  place. 
The  sky  was  gray  and  lowering,  but  the  sea  had 
sulkily  subsided,  showing  its  continued  resent- 
ment of  the  whole  experience  only  in  the  up- 
heaval of  an  occasional  wave  which  broke  over 
the  ship-rail  and  perished  at  our  feet.  As  the 
hours  passed,  pale  wraiths  appeared  at  the 

222 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

companionways,  supported  one  another  feebly 
to  the  nearest  chairs,  sank  into  them,  and  veiled 
their  faces  from  one  another's  gaze.  They  seem- 
ed the  ghosts  of  the  happy  men  and  women  who 
had  come  on  board  the  Columbia  six  long  days 
ago.  Languidly  as  the  hours  passed  they  re- 
vived and  confided  to  one  another  the  simple 
record  of  the  voyage.  No,  they  had  not  been 
ill.  It  was,  indeed,  singular  how  few  of  them 
had  been  disturbed  by  the  voyage,  though  they 
had  all  noticed  that  it  was  rough.  But  they 
had  been  injured  by  being  knocked  about  or 
thrown  from  their  berths,  or  they  had  been  car- 
ing for  friends  or  relatives  who  were  ill.  Sev- 
eral of  them  paused  at  my  side  on  their  way  to 
and  from  their  cabins  to  indulge  in  these  artless 
confidences.  It  remained,  however,  for  Aunt 
Nancy  to  make  the  most  interesting  of  all. 

She  came  along  the  deck  about  five  in  the 
afternoon  and  dropped  with  serene  satisfaction 
into  the  empty  steamer-chair  at  my  right.  She 
was  fully  dressed  in  the  inevitable  black,  even 
to  her  wide  bonnet.  With  a  sigh  of  pleasure 
she  folded  her  mittened  hands  and  began  to 
talk. 

"It's  been  real  interestin',"  she  said.  "I 
must  say  I'm  'most  sorry  to  have  it  over.  I 
223 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

want  to  go  to  Europe  again  in  two  years;  I 
ain't  really  enjoyed  this  trip  very  much;  but 
when  I  come  again  I  think  I'll  like  it  better, 
now  that  I  know  it.  But  of  course  at  my  age 
one  can't  really  be  sure  one  can  come  again." 

She  sank  into  silence  for  a  moment,  looking 
down  at  the  mittened  hands  in  her  lap.  Then 
her  face  brightened,  and  she  turned  to  me  again 
with  her  old,  alert  eagerness  of  expression. 

"I  dunno  why  I  shouldn't  come,  though," 
she  added,  cheerfully.  "  I'm  real  well.  Before 
I  left  home  I  was  some  worried.  I  didn't  seem 
to  be  as  strong  as  I  used  to  be.  That's  why  I 
come — to  build  up  my  health  an'  git  strong. 
Lots  of  folks  has  wondered  why  I  come,  I  guess, 
an'  that  was  it,  though  I  ain't  told  no  one  till 
now.  I  guess  I  did  improve,  too,  for  the  stew- 
ardess told  me  with  her  own  lips  only  this 
mornin'  that  she  thought  I  was  a  healthy 
woman.  But  of  course,"  she  added,  with  lowly 
humility,  "I  can't  do  what  I  did  when  I  was 
young." 

I  was  speechless.  The  Columbia  paused  on 
the  top  of  a  wave,  hesitated  a  moment,  and 
sailed  unsteadily  onward.  With  eyes  filled 
with  a  solemn  content,  Aunt  Nancy  gazed  out 
over  the  cold,  wet  sea. 

224 


IX 

THE   HENRY  SMITHS'   HONEYMOON 

WHEN  Jacob  West  suggested  to  Henry 
Smith  that  the  latter 's  honeymoon  should 
be  spent  in  New  York,  Mr.  Smith's  ruddy  coun- 
tenance paled  at  the  audacity  of  the  words,  and 
Miss  Maria  Tuttle,  his  fiancee,  gasped  audi- 
bly for  breath.  Unconsciously  they  clasped 
hands,  as  if  better  to  meet  together  the  rude 
shock  of  the  moment;  and  seated  side  by  side 
on  the  rustic  bench  which  adorned  the  small 
veranda  of  the  Tuttle  homestead,  they  gazed 
helplessly  at  the  speaker.  Slowly  and  with  the 
stiffness  of  age  Jacob  sat  down  on  the  steps  be- 
low them  and  looked  up  at  their  startled  faces 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  dim  old  eyes.  His  enjoy- 
ment of  the  moment  was  intense. 

"Why  not?"   he  demanded,   cajolingly  and 

argumentatively.     "Ain't   yeh   old   enough   t' 

have    a   good    time?     Ain't    yeh    waited    long 

enough?     Ain't  yeh" — he  turned   directly   to 

225 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Maria — "bin  nursin'  yer  poor  mother  fer  six 
years  past  an'  wearin'  yerself  out,  an'  ain't  yeh 
bin  sewin'  day  an'  night  fer  three  months,  ever 
sence  she  died,  t'  git  ready  t'  marry  Henry?" 
He  drew  a  long  breath  of  gratification  over  the 
respectful  silence  which  greeted  these  adroit 
points,  and  went  on  with  hortatory  sympathy. 
"Yeh  bin  a  good  daughter,  Maria.  They  ain't 
no  better  in  Clayton  Centre.  Yeh  deserve  th' 
best  they  is.  Now  be  good  t'  yerself  an' 
Henry.  Let  him  take  yeh  to  New  York  an' 
give  yeh  a  good  time  on  the  weddin'  tower." 

Miss  Tuttle  blushed  faintly.  She  was  forty- 
five,  and  looked  ten  years  older.  She  was  a 
tired,  worn  out,  faded  little  woman,  drained  of 
her  youth  and  vitality  by  the  hourly  exactions 
of  the  fault-finding  invalid  mother  whom  she 
had  so  recently  laid  away  in  the  church-yard 
with  unselfish  filial  tears.  But  there  was  some- 
thing attractive  in  the  sweet  patience  of  her 
thin  face,  and  the  look  in  her  brown  eyes  as 
she  turned  them  on  her  faithful  middle-aged 
lover  was  one  of  the  trump  cards  her  sex  has 
played  since  Eve  first  used  it  as  she  accom- 
panied Adam  to  the  gate  out  of  paradise.  In 
her  embarrassment  she  laughed  a  little,  con- 
sciously. 

226 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Mebbe  Henry  don't  want  to  go,"  she  began. 
"He  ain't  said  nothing  about  New  York." 

Henry  whirled  abruptly  till  he  faced  her  on 
the  rustic  seat. 

"Go!  You  bet  I  want  to  go!"  he  ejaculated, 
with  fervor.  "Don't  I  just — you  bet  I  do. 
Say,  Maria" — he  fumbled  nervously  with  the 
thin  hand  he  still  held  in  his  own — "say,  let's 
go." 

Jacob  West  cackled  delightedly.  "  That's  the 
talk!"  he  cried,  his  thin,  high  tones  taking  on  a 
shriller  note  in  his  excitement.  "You  jest  do 
it,  Henry!  You  make  her!  Neither  of  yeh'll 
be  sorry,  I  swan!" 

They  sat  silent,  reflecting,  and  the  old  fellow 
rose  slowly  and  painfully,  instinctive  delicacy 
telling  him  that,  having  done  his  part,  it  be- 
hooved him  to  leave  them  alone  to  solve  for 
themselves  the  question  he  had  raised.  It  was 
hard  to  go,  but  he  went,  chuckling  reminis- 
cently  as  he  recalled  the  excited  look  on  their 
faces  and  pictured  the  lively  debate  which 
would  followT  his  departure. 

It  was  a  warm  October  evening,  and  the  lit- 
tle village  lay  silent  under  the  early  stars.  A 
light  wind  sang  a  droning  lullaby  in  the  grove 
of  pines  back  of  the  Tuttle  home,  and  a  few 
227 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

belated  birds  twittered  sleepily  in  near-by  trees. 
Unconsciously  Maria  voiced  the  subtle  charm 
of  the  hour  when  she  spoke. 

"I  dunno,  Henry,"    she   said,  lingeringly  - 
"  I  dunno  's  I  feel  to  go.     Seems  like  we  ought 
to  be  content  to  stay  right  here,  where  it's  so 
quiet  an'  restful." 

Her  eyes  roamed  lovingly  down  the  garden 
paths,  lingering  on  trees  and  shrubs  planted  by 
Tuttle  hands  now  a  part  of  earth  themselves. 
"  I'm  so  glad  you're  comin'  here,"  she  sighed, 
happily.  "  I  don't  b'lieve  you  know  yet  how 
glad  I  am,  Henry — not  t'  leave  the  old  place." 

He  waived  the  discussion  of  this  side  interest, 
already  settled  between  them. 

"It  '11  be  jest  as  nice  when  we  come  back 
from  New  York,"  he  argued,  logically,  "an'  jest 
as  quiet." 

The  feminine  intellect  beside  him  took  an- 
other tack  on  the  sea  of  uncertainty  with  which 
old  Jacob  had  surrounded  it. 

"Mebbe  we  can't  afford  it,"  she  hazarded. 
"Prices  is  very  high  in  New  York,  Henry. 
Joseph  Hadley's  daughter  went  there  four 
years  ago  with  her  aunt,  and  she  told  me  with 
her  own  lips  they  had  to  pay  a  dollar  a  day 
for  their  room  at  the  hotel,  without  no  meals. 
228 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

The  hotel  man  wanted  seventy-five  cents 
apiece  for  dinner,  so  they  paid  it  once  a  day 
an'  the  rest  of  the  time  they  went  into  lunch- 
rooms an'  had  milk  an'  crackers.  But  with 
one  dollar  for  the  room,  and  another  dollar  'n' 
a  half  for  dinner,  an'  the  crackers  an'  milk  be- 
sides, they  spent  'most  twenty  dollars  the  very 
first  week.  They  had  to  come  right  straight 
home,  'n'  they'd  meant  to  stay  two  weeks." 

Henry  Smith's  strong  jaw  set  rather  obsti- 
nately. 

"  I  guess  we  won't  have  to  come  home  till  we 
git  ready,"  he  remarked,  easily,  "an'  I  guess 
we'll  git  our  three  meals  a  day,  too.  I  don't 
see  myself  eatin'  no  milk  an'  crackers,  nor  you, 
neither.  I  guess  I  'ain't  bin  savin'  all  these 
years,  with  a  good  carpenter  business,  without 
gittin'  somethin'  ahead.  Say,  'Ria"  —  it  was 
he  who  blushed  now,  his  round  face  close  to 
hers — "yeh  can  have  anything  yeh  want.  I'm 
that  glad  t'  git  yeh  at  last,  I'd  spend  all  I  have!" 

Her  thin  hand  responded  for  an  instant  to 
the  pressure  of  his  and  then  coyly  withdrew 
itself.  She  had  few  words  at  any  time  and 
none  in  moments  of  emotion,  but  he  knew  her 
and  was  satisfied. 

"You've  bin  so  good,  Henry,"  she  said,  at 
229 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

last;  "you've  bin  awful  patient  all  these  years. 
Fur's  I'm  concerned,  I'd  as  lief  stay  here  's  any- 
where, but  if  you  want  to  go  t'  New  York,  I — 
I — want  to  do  what  yeh  say." 

"Then  we'll  go,"  he  said,  quietly;    and  the 
great  question  was  settled. 

When  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry  Smith  arrived  in 
New  York  on  the  evening  of  their  wedding-day, 
it  is  doubtful  which  of  them  was  the  more  dazed 
and  frightened  by  the  bustle  and  confusion  at 
the  Grand  Central  station.  Maria  had  at  least 
the  support  of  her  husband's  nearness  to  sus- 
tain her,  and  the  comparative  peace  of  mind  of 
the  one  who,  though  facing  untoward  conditions, 
is  without  personal  responsibility;  but  Henry 
experienced,  in  addition  to  his  self-distrust,  a 
sickening  fear  of  failure  in  her  presence.  He 
was  conscious  of  two  dominant  thoughts.  What- 
ever happened,  he  must  take  care  of  his  wife 
and  spurn  the  advances  of  agreeable  strangers. 
Also  he  and  she  must  be  transported  by  hack  to 
the  hotel  they  had  chosen,  without  parting  with 
the  savings  of  years  for  the  ride.  He  had  heard 
of  the  extortions  of  cabmen.  He  bargained 
fiercely  with  a  too-zealous  independent  who  had 
already  grasped  his  hand-bag  and  was  leading 
230 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

the  way  to  his  cab,  past  the  more  inexpensive 
cabs  supplied  by  the  railroad  company. 

"You  don't  git  one  cent  more'n  two  dollars 
for  taking  us,  I  can  tell  you  that,"  announced 
Henry  Smith,  firmly  but  breathlessly,  as  he 
climbed  clumsily  into  the  cab  after  his  wife. 
The  hotel  was  in  the  fifties,  and  the  cabman  had 
intended  to  charge  a  dollar  for  the  ride.  He 
promptly  protested  against  Mr.  Smith's  offer, 
however,  inquiring  anxiously  if  the  gentleman 
wished  an  honest  cabman's  family  to  go  supper- 
less  to  bed.  It  appeared  that  the  gentleman 
was  indifferent  to  the  fate  of  the  cabman's 
family. 

"You'll  do  it  for  two  dollars  or  you'll  let  us 
git  out,"  was  his  final  word.  As  one  overcome 
by  superior  force,  the  cabman  yielded,  climbed 
sulkily  to  his  perch,  and,  bestowing  a  large, 
comprehensive  wink  upon  the  by  -  standers, 
started  for  the  hotel  his  fare  had  indicated. 
Mr.  Smith's  spirits  rose.  Obviously,  in  this  tri- 
umph he  had  demonstrated  his  fitness  to  cope 
with  all  the  other  grinding  monopolies  of  New- 
York.  He  smiled  proudly  at  his  wife  as  they 
drove  toward  Broadway,  and  his  confidence 
grew  as  he  discovered  that  he  recognized  the 
Times  Building  at  the  first  glance  and  could  also 
231 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

recognize  the  Hotel  Astor  by  its  resemblance 
to  the  picture  of  it  in  the  Clayton  Centre  Weekly. 
At  one  point  in  their  progress  up-town  the  cab 
was  caught  in  a  crush  of  vehicles  and  Mrs. 
Henry  Smith  was  privileged,  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  to  listen  to  the  untrammelled  con- 
versation of  New  York  cabmen  on  an  occasion 
when  they  set  their  moral  shoulders  against 
congested  traffic,  knowing  that  it  helps  them, 
at  all  events.  She  shuddered  and  clung  to 
Henry's  arm.  It  was  all  too  plain  that  they 
were  in  the  vortex  of  godlessness,  but  even  as 
the  realization  of  this  was  borne  to  her  on  the 
winged  speech  of  the  driver,  Mrs.  Smith  was 
conscious  of  an  inward  thrill.  It  was  awful, 
but  it  was  life — not  life  as  lived  in  Clayton 
Centre,  but  certainly  a  life  that  already  gained 
in  excitement  and  interest  from  that  fact.  Un- 
consciously craning  her  thin  neck  farther  out 
of  the  cab  window,  she  drank  in  with  a  fearful 
joy  the  roar  and  excitement  of  Broadway,  the 
shouts  of  drivers,  the  clang  of  trolley-cars.  Her 
faded  eyes  gleamed  as  she  saw  the  brilliant 
lights  of  the  great  thoroughfare  whose  illumi- 
nated signs  met  her  glance  at  every  turn. 

Arrived  at  the  hotel,  the  cabman  accepted 
the  two  dollars,  dumped  the  bride's  trunk  on 
232 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

the  sidewalk,  and  drove  off  with  an  alacrity 
designed  to  prevent  any  further  discussion  of 
rates.  Mr.  Smith  surrendered  his  hand-bag  to 
the  bell-boy  who  was  reaching  out  impatient 
hands  for  it,  grasped  his  wife's  arm,  and,  fol- 
lowing his  small  guide,  walked  firmly  into  the 
presence  of  the  hotel  clerk.  It  was  a  trying 
moment  for  him  as  he  dragged  that  aloof  per- 
sonality down  to  his  level,  but  details  were 
arranged  with  surprising  ease,  barring  so  strange 
a  lack  of  sympathy.  As  soon  as  he  had  ex- 
pressed his  few  and  simple  wishes  he  found 
himself  and  his  wife  being  guided  to  a  lift,  and 
with  wonderful  simplicity  put  in  possession  of 
a  comfortable  room  on  the  third  floor.  Here 
the  shades  were  drawn  down,  a  pitcher  of  ice- 
water  was  hospitably  placed  on  the  stand,  and 
a  cheery  fire  was  started  on  the  small  hearth. 
Over  this  last  extravagance  the  bride  faintly 
demurred,  but  Henry  silenced  her  with  his 
simple  grandeur  of  insistence.  It  was  a  cool 
November  evening,  and  he  had  noticed  that 
she  shivered  in  her  thin  wrap  as  they  drove 
up-town. 

"I  jest  intend  makin'  yeh  comfortable,"  he 
announced,  masterfully. 

It  was  something  of  an  ordeal  to  go  down  to 
'«  233 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

dinner  half  an  hour  later,  but  they  met  it  brave- 
ly, walking  stiffly  into  the  crowded  dining-room, 
and  looking  to  neither  the  right  nor  the  left  as 
they  followed  the  headwaiter  to  their  places. 
The  discovery  that  they  had  exclusive  posses- 
sion of  a  small  table  was  a  matter  of  joyful  sur- 
prise to  them  both,  on  which  they  freely  com- 
mented. The  daintiness  of  the  linen,  the  gleam 
of  silver,  the  perfection  of  the  service,  and  the 
soft  glow  of  candles  under  silk  shades,  filled  their 
simple  country  souls  with  awe.  It  suggested 
unconjectured  expense  with  a  tang  of  wicked- 
ness as  well.  Off  in  an  alcove,  screened  by 
palms,  an  orchestra  played  with  considerate 
softness.  Mr.  Smith  smiled  a  large,  expansive 
smile  and  leaned  back  in  his  chair.  The  mo- 
ment was  perfect.  His  apprehensions  were  over 
for  the  time.  Maria  was  with  him,  she  was  his, 
and  he  was  giving  her  all  this.  Could  an  Astor 
or  a  Vanderbilt  offer  more  to  the  woman  of  his 
heart?  Henry  Smith  looked  at  the  plush  and 
gilding  about  him,  and  read  his  answer. 

He  experienced  a  rude  awakening.  A  silent 
waiter  stood  beside  him,  offering  for  his  inspec- 
tion an  elaborate  menu.  The  letters  danced 
before  his  eyes  as  Henry  looked  at  them.  What 
did  they  mean,  anyhow,  and  how  did  one  pick 
234 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

out  what  one  wanted,  he  wondered.  Or,  per- 
chance, was  one  expected  gracefully  to  consume 
everything?  His  momentary  self-sufficiency 
died  on  the  instant,  and  sickening  fears  of  mak- 
ing a  mistake  before  Maria's  eyes  again  over- 
came him.  A  great  longing  filled  him  to  ap- 
pear to  advantage,  to  do  the  thing  properly, 
whatever  it  was.  On  a  sudden  inspiration  he 
leaned  toward  the  waiter. 

"Say,"  he  said,  confidentially,  "you  jest 
bring  us  two  good  dinners — the  best  of  every- 
thing you've  got — and  I'll  make  it  all  right 
with  yeh."  He  surveyed  the  waiter's  face  anx- 
iously as  he  spoke,  his  own  clearing  as  it  re- 
remained  quietly  respectful. 

"Very  well,  sir;  certainly,  sir,"  said  the 
servant,  promptly.  "Oysters  first,  sir,  I  sup- 
pose, and  a  little  green-turtle  soup;  a  bit  of 
fish,  perhaps — we've  some  very  nice  sole  in  to- 
day, sir;  a  bird — the  partridge  and  grouse  are 
excellent,  sir;  a  salad,  and  an  ice.  Any  wine, 
sir?  No,  sir?  Yes,  sir."  He  was  gone,  and 
Mr.  Smith  wiped  his  perspiring  brow.  Maria 
was  gazing  at  him  with  simple  love  and  trust. 

"I  declare,  Henry,"  she  murmured,  "you  do 
it  all  just  's  if  you'd  be'n  doin'  it  every  day  of 
your  life.     WJiere'd  you  learn?" 
235 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Mr.  Smith  made  a  vague  gesture  repudiating 
the  charge,  but  his  face  shone  and  he  sat 
straighter  in  his  chair.  He  dared  not  boast, 
for  he  knew  there  were  crucial  moments  com- 
ing, but  so  far  there  had  been  no  catastrophes 
and  his  courage  grew  with  each  achievement. 
When  Maria  looked  doubtfully  at  her  oysters, 
and,  joyfully  recognizing  them,  wondered  audi- 
bly why  they  were  not  made  into  a  stew  instead 
of  being  presented  in  this  semi-nude  condition, 
he  was  able,  after  a  piercing  glance  at  near-by 
tables,  to  set  her  right  with  easy  authority. 

"They  eat  'em  this  way  in  New  York,"  he 
said,  swallowing  one  himself  and  endeavoring, 
with  indifferent  success,  to  look  as  if  he  liked  it. 
Maria  followed  his  example,  rather  gingerly  and 
not  as  one  who  ventures  on  a  new  joy.  Her  in- 
terest remained  equally  vague  when  the  soup 
and  fish  successively  appeared.  When  the 
partridge  was  served,  however,  with  bread 
sauce  and  French  pease  and  currant  jelly,  the 
gratifying  experience  of  finally  "having  some- 
thing really  on  the  plate"  moved  her  to  alert 
appreciation,  and  she  proceeded  to  eat  her  din- 
ner with  an  expression  of  artless  and  whole- 
souled  relief.  She  was  able  to  point  out  to 
Henry,  as  a  bit  of  prandial  small-talk,  that  the 
236 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

orchestra  was  playing  "Nancy  Brown" — a  clas- 
sic ditty  whose  notes  had  reached  even  Clay- 
ton Centre.  It  was  at  this  stimulating  point 
of  the  dinner,  also,  that  she  felt  privileged  for 
the  first  time  to  remove  her  gloves,  glance  at 
the  other  tables  and  the  clothes  of  the  women, 
and  talk  freely  to  her  husband.  Hitherto  she 
had  "conversed"  under  pressure. 

The  waiter,  offering  her  a  second  helping  of 
jelly,  saw,  shining  in  her  hair,  several  grains  of 
rice.  The  discovery  exhilarated  but  did  not 
surprise  him.  His  mien  was  one  of  fatherly 
interest  five  minutes  later  as  he  presented  a 
small  bottle  for  Mr.  Smith's  inspection. 

"Champagne,  sir,"  he  murmured.  "Not  too 
dry  for  the  lady's  taste,  sir.  Thought  you'd 
like  a  glass — special  occasion,  sir — " 

His  eloquence  died  away  under  the  startled 
look  in  the  bride's  eyes,  but  the  groom  met  his 
happy  suggestion  with  warm  approval. 

"Jest  the  thing,"  he  said,  heartily.  "It  '11 
do  you  good,  Maria.  Doctors  give  it  when  peo- 
ple ain't  well,  so  you  can  take  it  'thout  any 
fear.  'N'  I  guess  you're  feelin'  pretty  well,  ain't 
you?"  he  grinned,  broadly,  over  this  flash  of 
humor. 

He  motioned  to  the  waiter  to  fill  her  glass, 
237 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

and  that  worthy  did  so  and  retired  behind  her 
to  give  his  courteous  attention  to  the  effect. 

They  drank  their  champagne,  and  a  faint 
color  came  to  Maria's  pale  cheeks.  It  was 
really  a  nice  place,  this  hotel,  she  decided,  and 
the  furnishing  of  this  room  was  such  as  palaces 
might  cope  with  in  vain.  She  had  heard  of 
their  glories;  now  she  could  guess  what  those 
glories  were.  The  voices  of  other  guests  chat- 
ting around  her  mingled  with  the  music ;  Clay- 
ton Centre  seemed  very  remote.  At  last  she 
was  seeing  life. 

She  felt  no  embarrassment  as  they  left  the 
table.  They  strolled  slowly  down  the  dining- 
room  and  out  into  the  palm-lined  corridor  on 
whose  plush  chairs  handsome  men  and  beauti- 
fully dressed  women  sat  and  chatted  with  sur- 
prising volubility  and  ease.  Intrepidly  the  new- 
comers seated  themselves  side  by  side  where 
they  could  listen  to  the  music  and  watch  the 
strange  beings  in  this  strange  world.  They 
were  out  of  it  all,  and  even  in  the  exhilaration 
of  the  moment  they  knew  it;  but  their  aloof- 
ness from  others  added  to  the  charm  of  the 
evening  by  drawing  them  closer  together.  They 
gloried  in  the  joint  occupation  of  their  little 
island  of  happiness.  For  a  long  time  they  sat 

238 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

there,  for  Maria  could  not  be  torn  away.  The 
music,  the  costumes  and  beauty  of  the  women, 
the  delicate  perfumes,  the  frequent  ringing  of 
bells,  the  hurrying  back  and  forth  of  bell-boys 
and  hotel  servants,  were  indescribably  fascinat- 
ing to  her. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Smith,  sternly  recalling 
himself  to  the  material  side  of  life,  had  a  brief 
but  pregnant  chat  with  the  clerk.  He  and  his 
wife  wished  to  stay  a  few  days  at  the  hotel,  he 
intimated,  but  it  would  be  advisable,  before 
making  their  plans,  to  go  somewhat  into  the 
question  of  expense.  How  much,  for  instance, 
was  their  dinner  last  night.  He  had  signed  a 
check,  but  his  memory  was  hazy  as  to  the 
amount.  His  brain  reeled  when  the  clerk, 
having  looked  it  up,  gave  him  the  figures — 
$10.85. 

"Good  Lord!"  gasped  Mr.  Henry  Smith. 
"I  guess  we'd  better  go  back  to-day  ef  it's 
goin'  to  be  that  much!" 

He  was  too  limp  mentally  to  follow  for  a  time 
the  clerks  remarks,  but  light  gradually  broke 
upon  him.  He  could  henceforth  take  table 
d'hote  meals,  paying  sixty  cents  each  for  break- 
fast and  luncheon  for  himself  and  his  wife,  and 
one  dollar  each  for  their  dinner.  That  would 
239 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

be  only  four  dollars  and  forty  cents  a  day  for  all 
meals — and  would  make  the  hotel  bills  much 
less  than  if  one  ordered  by  card,  unless  one  was 
— er — familiar  with  the  prices.  It  was  much 
less  trouble,  too.  Mr..  Smith  grasped  the  point 
and  expansively  shook  the  clerk's  hand.  His 
relief  was  so  great  that  he  urged  that  youth  to 
have  a  cigar,  and  the  youth  in  return  volun- 
teered information  as  to  points  of  interest  to 
strangers  in  New  York. 

"Better  do  the  town  to-day,"  he  suggested. 
"Just  go  round  and  get  a  general  view — Broad- 
way, Fifth  Avenue,  the  shops,  and  all  that. 
Then  to-night  you'd  better  go  to  the  play.  I 
think  you'd  enjoy  'The  White  Cat'  as  much  as 
anything." 

Armed  with  definite  information  as  to  the 
most  direct  route  to  Broadway,  Mr.  Smith 
sought  his  bride.  He  found  her  in  the  corridor, 
watching  the  people  come  and  go,  her  thin  face 
flushed  and  animated. 

"Oh,  Henry,"  she  c'ried,  eagerly,  "I  declare 
I'm  having  the  most  interestin'  time!  Those 
folks  over  there — you  know,  the  ones  that  has 
the  room  next  to  ours  —  ain't  spoke  to  each 
other  sence  breakfast.  Do  you  think  they've 
quarrelled,  the  poor  dears?" 

240 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

He  gave  but  perfunctory  attention  to  "the 
poor  dears,"  his  duties  as  prospective  cicerone 
filling  his  thoughts.  Maria's  face  fell  as  he  out- 
lined their  plans  for  the  day. 

"Well,  if  you  feel  to  go,  Henry,"  she  said, 
doubtfully,  "but  it's  so  interestin'  here.  I  feel 
's  if  I  knew  all  these  folks.  I  wish  we  could 
stay  here  this  mornin',  anyhow,  'n'  not  git  out 
in  those  dreadful  crowded  streets  jest  yet." 

He  sat  down  beside  her  with  a  promptness 
which  evoked  a  startled  shriek  from  an  absorbed 
young  person  reading  near  them. 

"Then  we'll  stay  right  here,"  he  announced, 
kindly.  "We're  here,  'Ria,  to  do  jest  what 
you  want,  an'  we're  goin'  to  do  it." 

She  gave  him  an  adoring  look,  and  under  its 
radiance  Mr.  Smith  promptly  forgot  the  small 
claims  of  Broadway.  Siberia  with  Maria  in  it 
would  have  blossomed  like  the  rose  for  Henry 
Smith,  and  the  wide,  cheerful  corridors  of  the 
Berkeley  were  far  removed  from  Siberia's  at- 
mosphere. Side  by  side  and  blissfully  happy, 
they  whiled  the  morning  hours  away.  After 
luncheon  Henry  again  tentatively  touched  on 
sight-seeing. 

"  'Tain't  far,"  he  said.  He  consulted  the  slip 
of  directions  the  clerk  had  given  him,  and  went 

241 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

on  expansively,  "We  take  the  cross-town  line 
at  Fifty-ninth  Street,  transfer  to  a  Broadway 
car—" 

Maria  shivered.  "My,  Henry,"  she  quavered, 
"  that  sounds  dreadful  mixed.  I'm  afraid  we'll 
get  lost." 

Henry's  own  soul  was  full  of  dark  forebodings, 
and  he  inwardly  welcomed  the  respite  her  words 
gave  him. 

"Well,  then,  don't  let's  go,"  he  said,  easily, 
"till  to-morrow,  anyhow.  We  got  plenty  o' 
time.  We'll  stay  here,  an'  to-night  we'll  go  to 
see  a  play." 

Like  the  morning,  the  afternoon  passed  sweet- 
ly. Henry  made  the  discovery  that  the  hotel 
caf6  at  the  right  of  the  reception-room  was  a 
popular  resort  for  men  guests  of  the  hotel,  and 
his  researches  into  their  pleasures  led  to  an  in- 
troduction to  a  Manhattan  cocktail.  He  re- 
turned to  Maria's  side  an  ardent  convert  to  her 
theory  that  the  hotel  was  the  pleasantest  place 
in  New  York.  Subsequently,  as  he  sampled  a 
Martini,  one  or  two  men  chatted  with  him  for  a 
moment,  giving  him  a  delightful  sense  of  easy 
association  with  his  peers.  Maria,  in  the  mean 
time,  had  formed  a  pleasing  acquaintance  with 
the  parlor  maid,  and  had  talked  freely  to  sev- 
242 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

eral  little  children.  It  was  with  reluctance  that 
they  tore  themselves  away  from  the  corridor 
long  enough  to  go  in  to  dinner. 

The  table  d'hote  dinner,  served  in  another 
room,  was  much  less  elaborate  than  the  ban- 
quet of  the  night  before,  but  neither  of  them 
realized  the  difference.  Good  in  itself,  to  them 
it  was  perfection,  and  Maria  recognized  almost 
as  old  friends  familiar  faces  of  fellow  hotel 
guests  at  the  tables  around  her.  When  the 
question  of  the  theatre  came  up  she  was  dis- 
tinctly chilling. 

"We'll  go  if  you  want  to,  Henry,"  she  said, 
"but  the  band's  goin'  to  play  all  evening,  an' 
the  maid  said  some  of  the  young  folks  has  got 
up  a  dance  in  the  little  ball-room.  Wouldn't 
you  like  to  see  it?" 

Henry  decided  that  he  would.  He  had,  in 
fact,  no  rabid  wish  to  see  a  play,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  piloting  Maria  safely  to  the  centre  of 
the  town  and  home  was  definitely  strenuous. 
He  drank  another  cocktail  after  dinner,  smoked 
a  cigar  with  a  Western  travelling  man,  ex- 
changed sage  views  on  politics  with  that  gentle- 
man, and  happily  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
evening  by  his  Maria's  side,  watching  the  whirl- 
ing young  things  in  the  small  ball-room.  The 
243 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

happiest  of  them  were  sad,  indeed,  compared 
with  Henry  Smith. 

The  next  morning  the  cheerful  voice  of  the 
clerk  greeted  him  as  he  came  from  the  dining- 
room. 

"Where  to-day,  Mr.  Smith?"  inquired  that 
affable  youth.  "How  about  the  Horse  Show? 
You  surely  ought  to  look  in  on  that."  He 
wrote  on  a  card  explicit  directions  for  arriving 
at  the  scene  of  this  diversion,  and  Mr.  Smith, 
gratefully  accepting  it,  hastened  to  his  bride's 
side.  He  found  her  full  of  another  project. 

"Oh,  Henry,"  she  cried,  "they's  going  to  be 
a  lecture  here  in  the  hotel  this  mornin',  by  a 
lady  that's  been  to  Japan.  All  the  money  she 
gets  for  tickets  will  go  to  the  poor.  I  guess 
she'll  ask  as  much  as  twenty-five  cents  apiece, 
but  I  think  we  better  go." 

Sustained  by  a  cocktail,  and  strengthened  by 
the  presence  of  his  Maria,  Mr.  Smith  attended 
the  lecture,  cheerfully  paying  two  dollars  for 
the  privilege,  but  refraining  from  dampening 
his  wife's  joy  by  mentioning  the  fact.  In  the 
afternoon  he  broached  the  Horse  Show.  Maria's 
face  paled.  To  her  it  meant  an  exaggerated 
county  fair,  with  its  attendant  fatigue. 

"You  go,  Henry,"  she  urged.  "You  jest  go 
244 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

an'  enjoy  yourself.  I  feel  too  tired — I  really 
do.  I'd  ruther  stay  home — here — an'  rest. 
We  don't  really  have  to  do  nothing  we  don't 
want  to,  do  we?" 

Honest  Henry  Smith,  whose  working-day  in 
Clayton  Centre  began  at  five  in  the  morning 
and  ended  at  six  at  night,  and  whose  evenings 
were  usually  spent  in  the  sleep  of  utter  exhaus- 
tion, found  himself  relaxing  deliciously  under 
her  words.  It  was  good,  very  good,  to  rest, 
and  to  know  they  didn't  have  to  do  things  un- 
less they  wished. 

"I  won't,  neither,  go  alone,"  he  announced. 
"I  ain't  anxious  to  go.  I'd  ruther  stay  here 
with  you.  We'll  go  some  other  time." 

The  white-capped  maid  smiled  as  she  passed 
them;  the  palms  nodded  as  to  old  friends. 
The  seductive  charms  of  the  Berkeley  corridors 
again  wrapped  them  round. 

"Going  to  see  some  of  the  pictures  to-day?" 
asked  the  clerk,  on  the  third  morning,  cheer- 
fully doing  his  duty  by  the  strangers  as  he  con- 
ceived it.  "  Better  go  to  Central  Park  first  and 
the  Metropolitan  Museum,  then  to  the  private 
exhibitions.  Here's  the  list.  Take  a  cross- 
town  car  to  Fifth  Avenue,  and  a  'bus  to 
Eighty -first  Street,  and  after  the  Park  a 
245 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Fifth  Avenue  'bus  will  drop  you  at  the  other 
places." 

Apprehension  settled  over  Henry  Smith,  rude- 
ly disturbing  his  lotos-eater's  sense  of  being. 
He  felt  almost  annoyed  by  this  well-meaning 
but  indefatigable  young  man  who  seemed  to 
think  folks  should  be  gadding  all  the  time.  His 
manner  was  unresponsive  as  he  took  the  ad- 
dresses. 

"I'll  see  what  my  wife  says,"  he  remarked, 
indifferently. 

His  wife  said  what  he  believed  and  hoped  she 
would  say. 

"We  ain't  goin'  home  till  to-morrow  after- 
noon," she  observed,  "an*  we  can  see  Central 
Park  to-morrow  mornin'  if  we  want  to.  They's 
a  woman  here  that  does  up  hair  for  fifty  cents, 
an'  I  thought  if  yeh  didn't  mind,  Henry,  I'd 
have  her  do  mine- 
Henry  urged  her  to  carry  out  this  happy  in- 
spiration. "  She  can't  make  yeh  look  any  nicer, 
though,"  he  added,  gallantly.  Then,  as  Maria 
surrendered  herself  and  their  room  to  the  hair- 
dresser's ministrations,  he  visited  the  bar,  chat- 
ted with  his  friend  the  clerk,  and  smoked  a 
good  cigar.  Afterward  he  selected  a  comforta- 
ble chair  in  the  corridor  where  he  was  to  meet 
240 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Maria,  stretched  his  long  legs,  dozed,  and  found 
it  good  to  be  alive. 

A  befrizzled  Maria,  whose  scant  hair  stood 
out  in  startling  Marcel  waves,  confronted  him 
at  luncheon-time.  A  sudden  inspiration  shook 
him  to  his  depths. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  go  down-town  and  have 
your  picture  took  ?"  he  urged.  "  Let's  have  ours 
done  together." 

Maria  was  proof  against  even  this  lure.  She 
had  a  better  idea. 

"They's  a  photograph  man  right  here  in  the 
hotel,"  she  chirped,  joyously.  "He's  next  to 
the  flower-shop,  an'  we  can  go  right  in  through 
that  little  narrow  hall." 

They  went,  subsequently  carrying  home  with 
them  as  their  choicest  treasure  the  cabinet 
photograph  for  which  they  had  posed  side  by 
side,  with  the  excitement  of  New  York  life 
shining  in  their  honest  eyes.  In  the  evening 
the  clerk  suggested  a  concert. 

"  It's  a  fine  one,  at  Carnegie  Hall,  right  near 
here,"  he  urged,  cheerfully,  "and  Sembrich  is 
to  sing,  with  the  Symphony  Orchestra.  You 
can  get  in  for  fifty  cents  if  you  don't  mind  sitting 
in  the  gallery.  You  really  ought  to  go,  Mrs. 
Smith;  you  would  enjoy  it." 
247 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

Mrs.  Smith  turned  upon  him  an  anxious  eye. 

"How  far  did  you  say  'twas?"  she  asked, 
warily. 

"Oh,  not  ten  minutes'  ride.  You  take  the 
car  here  at  the  corner — 

But  the  mention  of  the  car  blighted  the  bud- 
ding purpose  in  Maria's  soul. 

"I  feel  real  tired,"  she  said,  quickly,  "but 
if  my  husband  wants  to  go — 

Her  husband  loudly  disavowed  any  such 
aspiration. 

"  We  got  a  long  journey  before  us  to-morrow," 
he  said,  "an'  I  guess  we  better  rest." 

They  rested  in  the  Berkeley  corridor,  amid 
the  familiar  sights  and  scenes.  The  following 
morning  found  them  equally  disinclined  for 
sight-seeing.  Seated  in  their  favorite  chairs, 
they  watched  the  throngs  of  happy  people  who 
came  and  went  around  them.  Henry  had 
added  to  the  list  of  his  acquaintances  two  more 
travelling  men  and  the  boy  at  the  news-counter. 
His  wife  had  heard  in  detail  the  sad  story  of  her 
chambermaid's  life,  and  a  few  facts  and  sur- 
mises about  fellow-guests  at  the  hotel. 

Maria  drew  a  long  sigh  when,  after  they  had 
paid  their  bill  the  next  day  and  bade  farewell  to 
the  clerk  and  other  new  friends,  they  climbed 
248 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

into  the  cab  which  was  to  take  them  to  the 
station. 

"My,  but  it  was  interestin' !"  she  said,  softly; 
adding,  with  entire  conviction,  "  Henry,  I  'ain't 
never  had  such  a  good  time  in  my  hull  life!  I 
really  'ain't!" 

"Neither  have  I,"  avowed  Henry,  truthfully. 
"Wasn't  it  jest  bully!" 

On  the  train  a  sudden  thought  occurred  to 
Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Henry,"  she  began,  uneasily,  "  s'pose  any  one 
asks  what  we've  seen  in  New  York.  What  '11  we 
tell  'em  ?  You  know,  somehow  we  didn't  seem 
t'  git  time  t'  see  much." 

Henry  Smith  was  equal  to  the  emergency. 

"We'll  say  we  seen  so  much  we  can't  re- 
member it,"  he  said,  shamelessly.  "Don't  you 
worry  one  bit  about  that,  Maria  Smith.  I've 
always  heard  that  weddin'  couples  don't  never 
really  see  nothin'  on  their  weddin'  towers,  any- 
how— they  gad  an'  gad,  an'  it  don't  do  no  good. 
We  was  wiser  not  to  try!" 

17 


X 

THE  CASE   OF   KATRINA 

MY  memory  of  Katrina  goes  back  to  the 
morning  when,  at  the  tender  age  of  ten, 
she  was  violently  precipitated  into  our  class- 
room. The  motive  power,  we  subsequently 
learned,  was  her  brother  Jacob,  slightly  older 
than  Katrina,  whose  nervous  system  had 
abruptly  refused  the  ordeal  of  accompanying 
her  into  the  presence  of  the  teacher.  Pushing 
the  door  ajar  until  the  opening  Was  just  large 
enough  to  admit  her,  he  thrust  her  through, 
following  her  fat  figure  for  a  second  with  one 
anxious  eye  and  breathing  audibly  in  his  ex- 
citement. The  next  instant  the  cheerful  clatter 
of  his  hob-nailed  boots  echoed  down  the  hall, 
followed  by  a  whoop  of  relief  as  he  emerged 
upon  the  playground. 

It  was  Katrina's  bearing  as  she  stood,  thus 
rudely  projected  into  our  lives,  endeavoring  to 
recover  her  equilibrium,  and  with  thirty  pairs 
250 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

of  eyes  fixed  unswervingly  upon  her,  that  won 
my  heart  and  Jessica's.  Owing  to  a  fervid  de- 
termination of  our  teacher  to  keep  us  well  in 
view,  we  sat  in  the  front  row,  directly  facing 
her.  Having,  even  in  our  extreme  youth,  a  con- 
stitutional distaste  to  missing  anything,  we  un- 
doubtedly stared  at  Katrina  longer  and  harder 
than  any  of  the  others.  We  smiled,  too,  largely 
and  with  the  innocent  abandon  of  childhood; 
and  Katrina  smiled  back  at  us  as  if  she  also 
tasted  a  subtle  flavor  of  the  joke,  lost  to  cruder 
palates.  Then  she  shifted  her  tiny  school-bag 
from  one  hand  to  the  other,  swept  the  room 
with  a  thoughtful  glance,  and  catching  sight  of 
frantic  gestures  I  was  making,  obeyed  them  by 
walking  casually  to  an  empty  seat  across  from 
my  own,  where  she  sat  down  with  deepening 
dimples  and  an  air  of  finality. 

Several  moments  subsequently  our  teacher, 
Miss  Merrill,  aroused  herself  from  the  trance 
into  which  she  apparently  had  been  thrown  by 
the  expeditiousness  with  which  this  incident 
was  accomplished,  and  coming  to  Katrina 's  side, 
ratified  the  arrangement,  incidentally  learning 
the  new  pupil's  name  and  receiving  from  her 
hand  a  card,  written  by  the  principal  and  as- 
signing her  to  our  special  grade.  But  long  be- 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

fore  these  insignificant  details  were  completed, 
Jessica  and  I  had  emptied  Katrina's  bag,  ar- 
ranged her  books  in  her  desk,  lent  her  a  pencil 
she  lacked,  indicated  to  her  the  boy  most  to 
be  scorned  and  shunned,  given  her  in  panto- 
mime the  exact  standing  of  Miss  Merrill  in  the 
regard  of  her  pupils,  and  accepted  in  turn  the 
temporary  loan  of  the  spruce-gum  with  which 
she  had  happily  provided  herself.  At  recess 
the  acquaintance  thus  auspiciously  begun  ripen- 
ed into  a  warm  friendship,  and  on  the  way  home 
from  school  that  night  we  made  a  covenant  of 
eternal  loyalty  and  love,  and  told  one  another 
the  stories  of  our  lives. 

Jessica's  and  mine  were  distressingly  matter- 
of-fact.  We  were  both  supplied  with  the  usual 
complement  of  parents,  brothers,  and  sisters, 
and,  barring  the  melancholy  condition  that 
none  of  them,  of  course,  understood  our  com- 
plex natures,  we  had  nothing  unusual  to  chron- 
icle. But  Katrina's  recital  was  of  an  interest. 
She  was,  to  begin  with,  an  orphan,  living  with 
two  brothers  -and  an  old  uncle  in  a  large  and 
gloomy  house  we  had  often  noticed  as  it  stood 
with  its  faded  back  turned  coldly  to  Evans 
Avenue.  Seemingly  her  pleasures  and  friends 
were  few.  Once  a  month  she  went  to  the 
252 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

cemetery  to  put  flowers  on  her  father's  and 
mother's  graves.  Katrina  herself  seemed  un- 
certain as  to  whether  this  pilgrimage  properly 
belonged  in  the  field  of  pleasure  or  the  stern 
path  of  duty;  but  Jessica  and  I  classified  it  at 
once,  and  dropped  an  easy  tear.  We  hoped 
her  uncle  was  grim  and  stern,  and  did  not  give 
her  enough  to  eat.  This,  we  felt,  would  have 
made  the  melancholy  picture  of  Katrina's  condi- 
tion most  satisfyingly  complete.  But  when  we 
sought  eagerly  for  such  details,  Katrina,  with 
shameless  indifference  to  dramatic  possibilities, 
painted  for  us  an  unromantic,  matter-of-fact 
old  German,  kind  to  her  when  he  remembered 
her  existence,  but  submerged  in  his  library  and 
in  scientific  research.  We  further  learned  that 
they  ate  five  meals  a  day  at  Katrina's  home, 
with  "coffee"  and  numerous  accompaniments 
in  between.  Moreover,  Katrina's  school-bag 
bulged  at  the  sides  with  German  cakes  of  vari- 
ous shapes  and  composition.  Our  stern  dis- 
approval of  these  was  tempered  in  time  by 
the  fact  that  she  freely  shared  them  with  us. 
We  were  not  surprised  to  discover  also,  though 
these  revelations  came  later,  that  the  old  house- 
keeper had  difficulty  in  keeping  buttons  on  the 
child's  frocks,  and  that  Katrina  was  addicted  to 

253 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

surreptitious  consumption  of  large  cucumber 
pickles  behind  her  geography  in  school  hours. 
These  were  small  faults  of  an  otherwise  beau- 
tiful nature,  and  stimulating  to  our  youthful 
fancy  in  the  possibilities  they  suggested.  Un- 
questioningly  we  accepted  Katrina  as  a  being 
to  be  loved,  pitied,  and  spared  the  ruder  shocks 
of  life.  Lovingly  we  sharpened  her  pencils, 
cheerfully  we  covered  her  books,  unenthusias- 
tically but  patiently  we  wrote  her  compositions ; 
for  Katrina's  mind  worked  slowly,  and  litera- 
ture was  obviously  not  her  forte.  In  return, 
Katrina  blossomed  and  existed  and  shed  on  us 
the  radiance  of  a  smile  which  illumined  the 
dim  school-room  even  as  her  optimistic  theories 
of  life  leavened  our  infant  pessimism. 

Time  swept  us  on,  out  of  childhood  school- 
rooms into  the  dignified  shades  of  the  academy, 
and  Katrina  developed  from  a  fat  little  girl 
with  yellow  braids  into  a  plump  young  person 
with  a  rather  ordinary  complexion,  some  taste 
in  dress,  and  a  really  angelic  smile.  As  a  pos- 
sible explanation  of  her  lack  of  interest  in  in- 
tellectual pursuits,  she  explained  to  us  that  she 
continued  to  attend  school  only  because  her 
uncle  suggested  nothing  else.  Whatever  the 
reason,  we  were  glad  to  have  her  there;  and 
254 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

though  we  still  did  most  of  her  work,  and  she 
carefully  refrained  from  burdening  her  mind 
with  academic  knowledge,  the  tie  between  us 
was  strengthened,  if  anything,  by  the  fact.  Jes- 
sica and  I  were  already  convinced  that  more 
was  being  put  into  us  than  two  small  heads 
could  hold.  It  was  a  grateful  as  well  as  a 
friendly  task  to  pass  the  surplus  on  to  Katrina. 

When  we  were  seventeen,  Jessica  and  I  were 
told  that  we  were  to  be  sent  East  to  college, 
and  Katrina's  uncle,  first  stimulating  thought 
by  pushing  his  spectacles  back  upon  his  brow, 
decided  that  she  was  already  sufficiently  bur- 
dened by  education,  and  that  the  useful  arts 
of  the  Hausfrau  should  engage  her  attention 
forthwith.  She  should  keep  house  for  him  and 
her  brothers,  he  announced,  until  she  carried 
out  her  proper  mission  in  life  by  marrying  and 
having  babies.  With  this  oracular  utterance 
he  closed  further  discussion  by  burying  himself 
once  more  in  his  library,  while  Katrina  came  to 
tell  us  his  decision. 

She  had  looked  forward  to  the  pleasing  social 
aspects  of  college  life,  so  she  seemed  slightly  dis- 
appointed, did  Katrina,  and  the  end  of  her  nose 
held  certain  high  lights.  But  aside  from  this 
evidence  of  sorrow  she  made  no  protest  against 
255 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

the  peremptory  masculine  shaping  of  her  future. 
Stricken  to  the  heart,  Jessica  and  I  stormed, 
begged,  implored,  wept.  Katrina  opposed  to 
our  eloquence  the  impassive  front  of  a  pink 
sofa-cushion. 

"My  uncle  says  it,"  she  sighed,  and  was 
silent. 

Jessica  and  I  were  not  the  natures  to  remain 
inactive  at  such  a  crisis.  We  appealed  to  her 
brothers,  who  promptly  declined  to  express  any 
opinion  in  the  matter  beyond  a  general  convic- 
tion that  their  uncle  was  right  in  all  things. 
Baffled,  we  proceeded  to  beard  the  uncle  in  his 
den.  We  found  him  wearing  worn  carpet  slip- 
pers, a  faded  dressing-gown,  a  serene  expres- 
sion, and  an  air  of  absorption  in  science  which 
did  not  materially  lift  at  our  approach.  He 
listened  to  us  patiently,  however,  greeting  our 
impassioned  climaxes  with  long-drawn  "ach 
so's,"  which  Jessica  subsequently  confided  to 
me  brought  to  birth  in  her  the  first  murderous 
impulse  of  a  hitherto  blameless  life.  Once  we 
experienced  high  hopes,  when  Jessica,  whose 
conscience  had  seemingly  not  accompanied  us 
to  the  conference,  dwelt  feelingly  on  Katrina's 
unusual  intellectual  achievements  at  the  acad- 
emy. Her  uncle  grew  very  grave  at  this,  ancj 

256 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

his  "ach  so's"  rolled  about  in  the  bare  old 
library  like  echoes  of  distant  thunder. 

"Ach,  that  is  bad,"  he  sighed;  "I  did  not 
think  it;  I  was  careless.  I  should  have  taken 
her  away  sooner,  is  it  not  so?  But  she  will 
quickly  forget — yes,  yes."  His  face  cleared. 
"It  will  do  her  no  harm,"  he  went  on.  "It  is 
not  good  that  the  women  know  too  much. 
Kirche,  Kinder,  und  Kuchen — that  is  best  for 
them.  Ach,  yes." 

There  being  obviously  little  to  gain  by  pro- 
longing this  painful  discussion,  Jessica  and  I 
bore  our  outraged  sensibilities  to  the  calming 
atmosphere  of  our  homes.  And  in  due  time, 
our  trunks  being  packed  and  our  farewells  said, 
we  departed  to  apply  our  thirsty  lips  to  the 
fountain  of  knowledge  flowing  at  the  Eastern 
college,  leaving  Katrina  to  embark  upon  her 
domestic  career. 

Time  and  distance,  we  reminded  Katrina, 
could  be  bridged  by  letters,  and  Katrina  re- 
sponded nobly  to  the  hint.  She  wrote  every 
day  at  first,  and  we  consumed  most  of  our 
waking  hours  in  inditing  our  replies.  There 
seemed,  indeed,  little  else  to  engage  our  atten- 
tion in  a  community  which  was  experiencing 
great  difficulty  in  recalling  our  names  and  was 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

in  heathen  darkness  as  to  our  brilliant  achieve- 
ments at  the  academy.  As  time  passed,  how- 
ever, we  grew  more  busy.  For  a  few  months 
the  necessity  of  asserting  our  individuality  to 
an  extent  which  would  at  least  prevent  our 
being  trodden  upon  in  the  halls  engaged  our 
attention,  and  after  that  a  conscientious  imita- 
tion of  loved  ones  in  the  Junior  class  occupied 
much  time. 

The  great  news  of  Katrina's  engagement 
fanned  into  a  fierce  flame  the  warm  embers  of 
our  friendship.  Oh,  joy,  oh  romance,  oh, 
young,  young  love!  We  wrote  Katrina  forty 
pages  of  congratulations,  and  Katrina  coyly 
but  fully  replied.  We  could  almost  see  her 
rosy  blushes  as  she  bent  over  the  pages  of  her 
long  letters  to  us.  Her  future  lord  was  a  Ger- 
man, a  professor  in  the  Lutheran  college  in  our 
native  city,  and,  it  seemed,  though  Katrina 
dwelt  but  lightly  on  the  fact,  somewhat  past 
the  first  fine  flush  of  youth.  So  much  Katrina 
naively  conveyed  to  us,  with  the  further  in- 
formation that  the  wedding  was  to  be  early  in 
February,  because  Professor  von  Heller,  the 
happy  bridegroom,  seemed  unaccountably  to  be 
in  haste,  and  had  bought  a  home,  to  which  he 
was  anxious  to  take  her. 
258 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

There  was  much  in  all  this  to  arouse  our 
girlish  enthusiasm;  the  charms  of  our  beloved 
Juniors  paled  into  temporary  insignificance  as 
we  followed  Katrina's  love-affair.  We  could 
not  go  home  for  the  wedding,  for  reasons  which 
seemed  sufficient  to  the  faculty,  and  this  was  a 
bitter  blow.  But  we  spent  more  than  we  could 
afford  on  the  wedding-present  we  sent  Katrina, 
and  we  still  occupied  most  of  our  waking  hours 
writing  to  her. 

The  wedding,  according  to  Katrina's  account, 
was  in  the  nature  of  a  brilliant  social  function. 
She  found  time  during  her  honeymoon  to  write 
us  lengthy  accounts  of  its  splendors.  She  ob- 
viously had  taken  considerable  satisfaction  in 
the  presence  of  the  entire  faculty  of  Professor 
von  Heller's  college  and  in  the  effect  of  her 
gown,  which  was  of  white  satin,  with  orange- 
blossoms.  She  also  sent  us  a  box  of  her  wed- 
ding-cake, some  of  which  we  ate  and  upon  the 
rest  of  which  we  conscientiously  slumbered, 
experiencing  horrible  nightmares.  Then,  as  the 
weeks  passed,  her  letters  became  less  frequent, 
and  we,  in  turn,  whirling  in  the  maelstrom  of 
spring  examinations,  gave  to  her  paradise  the 
tribute  of  an  occasional  envious  thought  and 
respected  her  happy  silence. 
259 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

When  we  went  home  for  our  summer  vaca- 
tion our  first  caller,  most  properly,  was  Katrina. 
She  was  a  subdued,  rather  chastened  Katrina, 
whose  thoughtful,  slightly  puzzled  expression 
might  have  suggested  to  maturer  minds  that 
some,  at  least,  of  the  vaunted  joys  of  domestic 
life  had  thus  far  escaped  her.  She  urged  us  to 
come  to  her  at  once — the  next  day,  in  fact — 
and  we  accepted  her  invitation  with  the  alac- 
rity it  deserved.  We  could  not  dine  with  her, 
we  explained,  as  Jessica's  sister  had  thought- 
lessly made  another  engagement  for  us ;  but  we 
would  come  at  two  and  remain  until  after  five, 
unbosoming  ourselves  of  the  year's  experiences 
in  a  long  talk  and  listening  to  the  wisdom  that 
flowed  from  Katrina's  lips. 

The  next  day  was  very  beautiful,  and  Jessica 
and  I,  casting  off  a  haunting  suspicion  of  our 
individual  unimportance  which  we  had  not 
quite  succeeded  in  leaving  behind  us  at  college, 
expanded  joyfully,  and  lent  ourselves  to  the 
charms  of  a  sunlit  world.  The  Lutheran  fount 
of  knowledge  was  on  the  edge  of  the  city,  and 
Katrina's  home  was  a  short  distance  beyond  it. 
It  was  quite  a  country  place,  this  home,  over 
the  big,  bare  lawn  of  which  an  iron  dog  fiercely 
mounted  guard.  A  weather-beaten  house  con- 
260 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

fronted  us,  with  a  cold,  forbidding  expression. 
We  felt  chilled  as  we  opened  the  gate,  but  Ka- 
trina  presented  herself  at  the  first  click  of  its 
latch,  and  her  welcome  was  so  hospitable  and 
eager  that  our  temporary  constraint  vanished. 
Simultaneously  we  fell  upon  her  neck;  loudly 
we  assured  her  of  our  envious  delight;  noisily 
we  trooped  into  her  hall.  As  we  entered  it,  a 
large,  cheerful  room  confronted  us.  Through 
its  open  door  we  could  see  soft,  leather-covered 
easy -chairs  and  big  windows  overlooking  dis- 
tant hills.  Jessica  started  toward  this,  but 
Katrina  checked  her  with  a  gentle  touch. 

"Not  there,"  she  said,  gravely;  "that  is  my 
husband's  study,  and  he  may  come  in  any  mo- 
ment. This  is  our  sitting-room." 

She  opened  another  door  as  she  spoke,  and 
we  followed  her  dazedly  across  the  threshold 
into  a  space  which,  properly  utilized,  might  have 
made  a  comfortable  single  sleeping-room.  It 
was  quite  seven  feet  by  nine  and  had  one  win- 
dow, looking  out  on  a  dingy  barn.  The  painted 
floor  was  partly  covered  by  a  rug.  Katrina's 
zither  stood  stiffly  in  a  corner,  three  chairs 
backed  themselves  sternly  against  the  wall. 
Katrina  indicated  two  of  these,  and  dropped  on 
the  third  with  her  radiant  smile. 
261 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

"We  use  this  as  the  sitting-room,"  she  re- 
marked, casually,  "because  my  husband  needs 
plenty  of  light  and  space  when  he  works.  Oh, 
my  dear  girls!"  she  broke  out;  "you  don't 
know  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you!  Tell  me  every- 
thing that  has  happened  since  we  met — all 
about  college  and  your  friends  there." 

As  she  spoke,  there  was  the  sound  of  heavy 
footsteps  in  the  hall,  followed  by  the  noisy  open- 
ing and  shutting  of  a  door.  The  pushing  about 
of  chairs  in  the  next  room  and  the  drop  of  a 
heavy  body  into  one  of  them  suggested  that 
the  professor  was  at  home  and  in  his  study. 
Katrina  corroborated  this  surmise. 

"My  husband,"  she  murmured,  with  a  lit- 
tle blush.  "He  is  early  to-day." 

The  words  were  drowned  by  a  roar. 

"  Katrina,"  bellowed  a  bass  voice  of  startling 
depth,  "bring  my  slippers!" 

Katrina  rose  on  the  instant. 

"You  will  excuse  me?"  she  said,  hastily. 
"Talk  till  I  come  back." 

We  did  not  talk,  having  some  abysmal  sus- 
picion that  if  we  talked  we  might  say  some- 
thing. I  gazed  steadily  at  a  little  German  pict- 
ure on  the  wall — one  I  had  given  our  hostess 
years  before — and  Jessica  hummed  a  college- 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

song  under  her  breath.  We  heard  Katrina's 
feet  fly  up-stairs,  down  again,  and  into  the 
study.  Almost  immediately  she  returned  to 
us,  her  cheeks  pink  from  her  exertions. 

"  Now,"  she  began,  "  I  want  to  hear  all  about 
it — the  nicest  teachers,  the  chums  who  have 
taken  my  place." 

The  voice  in  the  next  room  boomed  out  again. 

"Ka-tri-na!"  it  bellowed.  "My  pipe!  It  is 
up-stairs." 

Katrina  departed  for  the  pipe.  Jessica  and 
I  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  a  long,  comprehend- 
ing gaze  into  the  depths  of  each  other's  eyes. 
Katrina  returned,  and  we  all  talked  at  once; 
for  five  minutes  reminiscences  and  confidences 
flowed  with  the  freedom  of  a  mountain  stream 
after  a  thaw. 

"Ka-tri-na!" 

Katrina  sat  still.  She  was  listening  to  the 
end  of  Jessica's  best  story,  but  one  willing  foot 
went  forward  tentatively. 

"Ka-tri-na!"  Katrina  should  have  heard 
that  call  though  she  lay  with  folded  hands  be- 
side her  mother  'neath  the  church-yard  mould. 

"  Katrina,  get  me  Haeckel's  Wonders  of  Life!" 

Katrina  got  it,  by  the  simple  and  effective 
process  of  going  into  the  room  where  the  pro- 
263 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

fessor  sat  and  taking  it  from  its  shelf.  We  heard 
the  soft  murmur  of  her  voice,  followed  by  the 
rumble  of  his.  When  she  returned  to  us,  Jes- 
sica finished  her  story  in  the  chastened  spirit 
which  follows  such  an  interruption,  and  there 
were  ten  minutes  of  talk.  We  forgot  the  bare 
little  room;  old  memories  softly  enfolded  us; 
the  Katrina  we  knew  and  loved  dominated  the 
situation. 

"Ka-tri-na!" 

Katrina's  soft  lips  were  not  smiling  now,  but 
she  rose  at  once,  and  with  a  murmured  apology 
left  the  room.  We  heard  the  suggestion  of  the 
rest  of  her  task  as  she  closed  the  door. 

"  Where  is  that  box  of  pens  I  got  last  week  ?" 

Apparently  their  lurking-place  was  a  distant 
one;  Katrina's  absence  was  long.  When  she 
returned,  she  volunteered  to  show  us  the  house. 
We  surmised  that  her  desire  was  to  get  away 
from  the  sound  of  that  summoning  voice,  and 
even  as  we  rose  we  realized  the  futility  of  such 
an  effort. 

The  dining-room,  into  which  she  led  us  for 
cake  and  tea,  was  almost  comfortable.  Its 
furniture,  dark,  serviceable  oak,  was  a  gift, 
Katrina  told  us,  from  her  uncle.  Twice  as  she 
served  the  tea  she  responded  to  a  summons 

264 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

from  the  professor's  study.  Once  he  desired  a 
handkerchief,  and  the  second  time  he  wished 
an  important  letter  posted  at  once.  His  wife 
went  out  to  the  rural  box  which  adorned  the 
fence  in  front  of  the  house  and  cast  the  en- 
velope into  its  yawning  mouth.  Returning,  she 
showed  us  her  kitchen,  an  immaculate  spot,  the 
floor  of  which  was  evidently  scrubbed  by  her 
own  hands,  for  she  mentioned  that  she  em- 
ployed no  servant. 

"Hans  thinks  we  do  not  need  one,"  she 
added,  simply. 

To  the  right  of  the  dining-room  was  a  fine, 
bright,  cheerful  room,  full  of  shelves  on  which 
stood  innumerable  jars  and  bottles  of  evil  odor. 

"My  husband's  laboratory,"  announced  Ka- 
trina,  proudly.  "  He  has  to  have  light  and  air." 

Up-stairs  there  was  a  bedroom  containing  a 
huge  double  bed;  a  companion  room  off  this 
was  evidently  used  by  the  professor  as  a  dress- 
ing-room and  store-room.  His  clothes  and  sev- 
eral startling  German  trunks  filled  it.  There 
were  other  rooms,  but  not  one  of  them  con- 
tained a  rug  or  a  piece  of  furniture.  Slowly, 
convincingly,  the  knowledge  entered  our  senti- 
mental little  hearts  that  Katrina's  sole  refuge 
for  herself  and  her  friends  was  the  tiny,  so- 
is  265 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

called  "sitting-room"  down-stairs.  She  con- 
tinued to  show  us  about  with  housewifely  pride. 
So  far  as  we  could  see,  her  unconsciousness  of 
her  wrongs  was  complete.  She  was  wholly  un- 
touched by  self-pity. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say — "  began  Jessica,  warm- 
ly, and  then  suddenly  realized  that  she  herself 
could  not  say  it.  It  was  as  well,  for  there  was 
no  opportunity.  Even  as  Katrina  was  begin- 
ning to  explain  that  her  husband  did  not  think 
it  necessary  to  complete  the  furnishing  of  the 
house  for  a  year  or  two,  he  summoned  her  to 
his  side  by  a  megaphonic  demand  for  water  to 
thin  his  ink.  His  impatience  for  this  over- 
came his  obvious  aversion  to  exertion,  and  he 
came  into  the  hall  to  take  it  from  her  hand  as 
we  descended  the  stairs.  She  introduced  him 
to  us,  and  he  bowed  gravely  and  with  con- 
siderable dignity.  He  had  a  massive  head, 
with  iron-gray,  curling  hair,  and  near-sighted 
eyes,  which  peered  at  us  vaguely  through  large, 
steel-rimmed  spectacles.  He  surveyed  us,  not 
unpleasantly,  but  wholly  without  interest, 
nodded  again,  partly  to  himself  and  partly  to 
us,  as  if  our  appearance  had  confirmed  some 
dark  surmise  of  his  own,  took  the  water  from 
Katrina's  hand,  grunted  an  acknowledgment, 
266 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

and  retreated  to  his  fastness  in  the  study.  He 
had  not  spoken  one  articulate  word.  Even 
Katrina,  smiling  her  untroubled  smile,  seemed 
to  feel  that  something  in  the  situation  demand- 
ed a  word  of  comment. 

"  He  is  not  at  ease  with  girls,"  she  murmured, 
gently.  "He  has  taught  only  boys,  and  he 
does  not  understand  women;  but  he  has  a 
kind  heart." 

Jessica  and  I  ruminated  thoughtfully  upon 
this  tribute  as  we  went  away.  We  had  learned 
through  the  innocent  prattle  of  our  hostess's 
busy  tongue  that  she  desired  a  garden,  but  that 
Hans  thought  it  a  waste  of  time;  that  she  had 
suggested  open  plumbing,  and  that  Hans  de- 
clined to  go  to  the  expense ;  that  she  saw  little 
of  her  brothers  nowadays,  as  Hans  did  not  ap- 
prove of  them ;  that  her  old  friends  came  to  see 
her  rarely  since  her  marriage,  as,  for  some  rea- 
son unaccountable  to  Katrina,  they  seemed  not 
to  like  her  husband. 

We  waited  until  we  were  out  of  sight  of  the 
house,  and  then  seated  ourselves  gloomily  on 
a  wayside  rock  under  a  sheltering  tree.  A 
robin,  perched  on  a  branch  above  our  heads, 
burst  into  mocking  song.  The  sun  still  shone; 
I  wondered  how  it  could. 
267 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Well,  of  all  the  selfish  beasts  and  unman- 
ageable brutes!"  Jessica  began,  hotly.  Jessica's 
language  was  frequently  too  strong  for  elegance, 
and  even  at  this  exciting  moment  my  sense  of 
duty  forced  me  to  call  the  fact  to  her  attention. 
I  moreover,  essayed  judicious  weighing  of  the 
situation  as  the  most  effective  means  of  cooling 
her  off. 

"  If  the  secret  of  happiness  is  work,  as  most 
authorities  agree,"  I  reminded  Jessica,  "Pro- 
fessor von  Heller's  wife  ought  to  be  the  happiest 
bride  in  this  country." 

Jessica  turned  one  disgusted  glance  upon  me, 
rose  with  dignity,  and  moved  haughtily  down 
the  road  to  a  street-car  which  was  bumping  its 
way  toward  us  on  its  somewhat  uneven  track. 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  are  going  to  be  funny  over 
a  tragedy  in  which  one  of  your  dearest  friends  is 
a  victim,"  she  observed,  icily,  "we  will  not  dis- 
cuss the  matter.  But  I,  for  one,  have  learned 
a  lesson:  I  know  now  what  matrimony  is." 

I  had  a  dim  sense  that  even  this  experience, 
interesting  and  educative  though  it  was,  could 
not  be  fairly  regarded  as  a  post-graduate  course 
in  matrimonial  knowledge,  and  I  ventured  to 
say  so. 

Jessica  set  her  teeth  and  declined  to  discuss 
268 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

the  matter  further,  resolutely  turning  the  con- 
versation to  the  neutral  topic  of  a  cat-bird  which 
was  mewing  plaintively  in  a  hedge  behind  us. 
Late  that  night,  however,  she  awoke  me  from 
my  innocent  slumbers  with  a  request  for  knowl- 
edge as  to  the  correct  spelling  of  irrevocable  and 
disillusionment.  She  was  at  her  desk,  writing 
hard,  with  her  brows  knit  into  an  elaborate 
pattern  of  cross-stitching.  I  knew  the  moment 
I  looked  upon  her  set  young  face  that  the  mis- 
sive was  to  Arthur  Townsend  Jennings,  the 
brother  of  a  classmate,  whose  letter  urging  her 
to  "wait  five  years"  for  him  Jessica  had  re- 
ceived only  that  morning.  It  was  quite  evi- 
dent, even  to  the  drowsiest  observation,  that 
Jessica  was  not  promising  to  wait. 

Jessica's  pessimism  on  the  subject  of  matri- 
mony dated  from  that  hour,  and  grew  with  each 
day  that  followed.  Coldly,  even  as  she  had 
turned  from  the  plea  of  Arthur  Townsend  Jen- 
nings, did  she  turn  from  all  other  suitors.  She 
grew  steadily  in  charm  and  beauty,  and  her 
opportunities  to  break  hearts  were,  from  the 
susceptible  nature  of  man,  of  an  almost  startling 
frequency.  Jessica  grasped  each  one  with  what 
seemed  even  to  my  loyal  eyes  diabolical  glee. 
She  was  an  avenging  Nemesis,  hot  on  the  trail 
269 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

of  man.  Grave  professors,  Harvard,  Yale,  and 
Princeton  Juniors  and  Seniors,  loyal  boy  friends 
of  her  youth  who  came  in  manhood  to  lay  their 
hearts  at  her  feet — all  of  these  and  more  Jes- 
sica sent  forth  from  her  presence,  a  long,  strick- 
en procession.  "  I  know  now  what  matrimony 
is,"  was  Jessica's  battle-cry.  If,  in  a  thought- 
less partisan  spirit,  I  sought  to  say  a  good  word 
for  one  of  her  victims,  pointing  out  his  material 
advantages  or  his  spiritual  graces,  or  both, 
Jessica  turned  upon  me  with  a  stern  reminder. 
"  Have  you  forgotten  Katrina?"  she  would  ask. 
As  I  had  not  forgotten  Katrina,  the  question 
usually  silenced  me. 

For  myself,  I  must  admit,  Jessica's  Spartan 
spirit  had  its  effect  as  an  example.  Left  alone 
to  work  out  the  problem  according  to  my  ele- 
mental processes,  I  might  possibly  have  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  Katrina's  domestic  in- 
felicity, assuming  that  it  existed,  need  not 
necessarily  spread  a  sombre  pall  over  the  entire 
institution  of  matrimony.  But  Jessica's  was 
a  dominant  personality,  and  I  was  easily  in- 
fluenced. In  my  humble  way  I  followed  her 
example ;  and  though,  lacking  her  beauty  and 
magnetism,  the  havoc  I  wrought  was  vastly 
less  than  hers,  I  nevertheless  succeeded  in  tem- 
270 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

porarily  blighting  the  lives  of  two  middle-aged 
professors,  one  widower  in  the  dry-goods  line, 
and  the  editor  of  a  yellow  newspaper.  This 
last,  I  must  admit,  my  heart  yearned  over.  I 
earnestly  desired  to  pluck  him  from  the  burning, 
so  to  speak,  and  assist  him  to  find  the  higher 
nature  of  which  he  had  apparently  entirely  lost 
sight.  There  was  something  singularly  pleas- 
ing to  me  in  the  personality  of  this  gentleman, 
but  Jessica  would  have  none  of  him.  I  finally 
agreed  to  be  a  maiden  aunt  to  him,  and,  this 
happy  compromise  effected,  I  was  privileged  to 
see  him  frequently.  If  at  any  time  I  faltered, 
quoting  him  too  often  on  the  political  prob- 
lems of  the  day,  or  thoughtlessly  rereading  his 
letters  in  Jessica's  presence,  she  reminded  me 
of  Katrina.  I  sighed,  and  resumed  the  mantle, 
so  to  speak,  of  the  maiden  aunt.  Unlike  Ka- 
trina, I  never  had  been  good  at  running  errands, 
and  now,  in  my  early  thirties,  I  was  taking  on 
stoutness:  it  was  plain  that  the  risk  of  matri- 
mony was  indeed  too  great. 

For  we  had  been  growing  older,  Jessica  and 
I,  and  many  things  more  or  less  agreeable  had 
happened  to  us.  We  had  been  graduated  with 
high  honors,  we  had  spent  four  years  abroad  in 
supplementary  study,  and  we  had  then  returned 
271 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

to  the  congenial  task  of  bringing  education  up 
to  date  in  our  native  land.  We  taught,  and 
taught  successfully;  and  our  girls  went  forth 
and  married,  or  studied  or  taught,  and  came 
back  to  show  us  their  babies  or  their  theses,  ac- 
cording to  the  character  of  their  productive- 
ness. We  fell  into  the -routine  of  academic  life. 
Occasionally,  at  longer  intervals  as  the  years 
passed,  an  intrepid  man,  brushing  aside  the 
warnings  of  his  anxious  friends,  presented  him- 
self for  the  favor  of  Jessica,  and  was  sternly 
sent  to  join  the  long  line  of  his  predecessors. 
Life  was  full,  life  in  its  way  was  interesting, 
but  it  must  be  admitted  that  life  was  some- 
times rather  lonely.  My  editor,  loyal  soul  that 
he  was,  wrote  regularly,  and  came  to  see  me 
twice  a  year.  Professor  Herbert  Adams,  a  vic- 
tim long  at  Jessica's  feet,  made  sporadic  de- 
partures from  that  position,  and  then  humbly 
returned.  These  two  alone  were  left  us.  Jes- 
sica acquired  three  gray  hairs  and  a  permanent 
crease  in  her  intellectual  brow. 

During  all  these  changing  scenes  we  had  not 
seen  Katrina.  Under  no  circumstances,  after 
that  first  melancholy  visit,  would  we  willingly 
have  seen  her  again.  At  long  intervals  we 
heard  from  her.  We  knew  there  were  three 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

fat  babies,  whose  infant  charms,  hitherto  un- 
paralleled, were  caricatured  in  snapshots  sent 
us  by  their  proud  mother.  Jessica  looked  at 
these,  groaned,  and  dropped  them  into  the 
dark  corners  of  our  study. 

Our  visits  home  were  rare,  and  there  had  been 
no  time  in  any  of  them  for  a  second  call  at 
the  home  of  Professor  von  Heller.  Seven  years 
after  our  return  from  Europe,  however,  Jessica 
decided  that  she  needed  a  rest  and  a  summer  in 
her  native  air.  Moreover,  she  had  just  given 
Professor  Adams  his  final  cong£,  and  he  had  left 
her  in  high  dudgeon.  I  sapiently  inferred  that 
Jessica  had  found  the  experience  something  of 
a  strain.  As  Jessica  acted  as  expeditiously  in 
other  matters  as  in  blighting  lives,  I  need  hard- 
ly add  that  we  were  transported  to  our  home 
town  with  gratifying  despatch.  We  had  step- 
ped from  the  train  at  the  end  of  our  journey 
before  a  satisfactory  excuse  for  remaining  be- 
hind had  occurred  to  me,  and  it  was  obviously 
of  little  avail  to  mention  it  then.  Twenty- 
four  hours  after  the  newspapers  had  chronicled 
the  exciting  news  of  our  arrival,  Katrina  called 
on  us. 

We  gasped  as  we  looked  at  her.  Was  this, 
indeed,  Katrina  —  this  rosy,  robust,  glowing, 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

radiant  German  with  shining  eyes  and  with 
.vitality  flowing  from  her  like  the  current  of  an 
electric  battery?  I  looked  at  Jessica's  faded 
complexion,  the  tired  lines  in  her  face,  the 
white  threads  in  her  dark  hair,  and  my  heart 
contracted  suddenly.  I  knew  how  I  looked — 
vastly  more  tired,  more  faded  than  Jessica,  for 
I  had  started  from  a  point  nearer  to  these  un- 
desirable goals.  We  three  were  about  the  same 
age.  There  were  six  months  at  the  most  be- 
tween us.  Who  would  believe  it  to  look  at  us 
together  ? 

Katrina  seized  us  in  turn,  and  kissed  us  on 
both  cheeks.  To  me  there  was  something  life- 
giving  in  the  grasp  of  her  strong,  firm  hands, 
in  the  touch  of  her  cool,  soft  lips.  She  insisted 
that  we  come  to  see  her  and  at  once.  When 
would  we  come?  We  had  no  excuse  now,  she 
pointed  out,  and  if  we  needed  a  rest,  the  farm — 
her  home — was  the  best  place  in  the  world  for 
rest.  With  a  faint  access  of  hope  I  heard  her. 
The  farm?  Had  she,  then,  moved?  No,  she 
was  still  in  the  same  place,  Katrina  explained, 
but  the  city  had  lurched  off  in  another  direc- 
tion, leaving  her  and  Hans  and  the  children 
undisturbed  in  their  peaceful  pastoral  life. 

"Ka-tri-na!" 

274 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

I  almost  jumped,  but  it  was  only  a  memory, 
helped  on  by  my  vivid  fancy.  I  had  tried  to 
picture  the  peaceful  pastoral  life,  but  all  that 
responded  was  the  echo  of  that  distant  sum- 
mons. Jessica,  however,  was  explaining  that 
we  would  come — soon,  very  soon — next  week — 
yes,  Tuesday,  of  course.  Jessica  subsequently 
inquired  of  me,  with  the  strong  resentment  of 
the  person  who  is  in  the  wrong,  how  I  expected 
her  to  get  us  out  of  it.  It  was  something  that 
had  to  be  done.  Obviously,  she  said,  it  was 
one  of  those  things  to  do  and  have  done  with. 

She  discoursed  languidly  about  Katrina  in 
the  interval  between  the  promise  and  the  visit. 

"Well!  Of  course  she's  well,"  drawled  Jes- 
sica. "She's  the  kind  that  wouldn't  know  it 
if  she  wasn't  well.  For  the  rest,  she's  phleg- 
matic, has  no  aspirations,  and  evidently  no 
sensitiveness.  All  she  asks  is  to  wait  on  that 
man  and  his  children,  and  from  our  glimpse  of 
Hans  we  can  safely  surmise  that  he  is  still 
gratifying  that  simple  aspiration.  Heavens! 
don't  let's  talk  about  it!  It's  too  horrible!" 

Tuesday  came,  and  we  made  our  second  visit 
to  Katrina's — fourteen  years  to  a  month  from 
the  time  of  our  first.  Again  the  weather  was 
perfect,  but  the  years  and  professional  cares 

275 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

had  done  their  fatal  work,  and  our  lagging 
spirits  refused  to  respond  to  the  jocund  call  of 
the  day.  Again  we  approached,  with  an  ab- 
surd shrinking,  the  bleak  old  house.  The  bleak 
old  house  was  not  there ;  nay,  it  was  there,  but 
transformed.  It  was  painted  red.  Blossom- 
ing vines  clambered  over  it;  French  windows 
descended  to  meet  its  wide  verandas;  striped 
awnings  sheltered  its  rooms  from  the  July  sun. 
The  lawns,  sloping  down  to  a  close-clipped 
hedge,  were  green  and  velvety.  The  iron  dog 
was  gone.  A  great  hammock  swung  in  the 
corner  of  the  veranda,  and  in  it  tumbled  a  fat, 
pink  child  and  a  kitten.  The  fat  child  proved 
that  all  was  not  a  dream.  It  was  Katrina  re- 
born— the  Katrina  of  that  first  day  in  school, 
twenty  years  and  more  ago.  Rather  unsteadily 
we  walked  up  the  gravel  path,  rather  uncer- 
tainly we  rang  the  bell.  A  white-capped  maid 
ushered  us  in.  Yes,  Frau  von  Heller  was  at 
home  and  expecting  the  ladies.  Would  the 
ladies  be  gracious  enough  to  enter  ?  The  ladies 
would.  The  ladies  entered. 

The  partition  between  two  of  the  rooms  had 
been  taken  down  and  the  entire  floor  made 
over.  There  was  a  wide  hall,  with  a  great 
living-room  at  the  right.  As  we  approached  it 

276 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

we  heard  the  gurgle  of  a  baby's  laugh,  Katrina's 
answering  ripple,  and  the  murmur  of  a  bass 
voice  buzzing  like  a  cheerful  bumblebee.  Our 
footsteps  were  deadened  by  the  thick  carpet, 
and  our  entrance  did  not  disturb  for  a  moment 
the  pleasing  family  tableau  on  which  we  gazed. 
The  professor  was  standing  with  his  baby  in 
his  arms,  his  profile  toward  the  door,  facing  his 
wife,  who  was  laughing  up  at  him.  The  infant 
had  grasped  a  handful  of  his  father's  wavy  gray 
hair  and  was  making  an  earnest  and  gratifying- 
ly  successful  effort  to  drag  it  out  by  the  roots. 
Von  Heller's  face,  certainly  ten  years  younger 
than  when  we  saw  it  last,  was  alight  with  pride 
in  this  precocious  offspring.  Seeing  us,  he  tossed 
the  baby  on  his  shoulder,  holding  it  there  with 
one  accustomed  arm,  and  came  to  meet  us,  his 
wife  close  by  his  side.  They  reached  us  to- 
gether, but  it  was  the  professor  who  gave  us 
our  welcome.  This  time  he  needed  no  intro- 
duction. 

"My  wife's  friends,  Miss  Lawrence  and  Miss 
Gifford,  is  it  not?"  He  smiled,  extending  his 
big  hand  to  each  of  us  in  turn,  and  giving  our 
hands  a  grip  the  cordiality  of  which  made  us 
wince.  "It  is  a  pleasure.  But  you  will  ex- 
cuse this  young  man,  is  it  not?"  He  lowered 
277 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

the  baby  to  his  breast  as  he  spoke,  while  his 
wife  fell  upon  our  necks  in  hospitable  greeting. 
"He  has  no  manners,  this  young  man,"  added 
the  father,  sadly,  when  Katrina  had  thus  ex- 
pressed her  rapture  in  our  arrival.  "  He  would 
yell  if  I  put  him  down,  and  he  has  lungs — ach, 
but  he  has  lungs!" 

He  busied  himself  drawing  forth  chairs  for 
us,  apparently  quite  unhampered  by  his  small 
burden.  We  contemplated  the  baby  and  said 
fitting  things.  He  had  cheeks  like  beefsteaks 
and  eyes  that  stuck  out  of  his  head  with  what 
appeared  to  be  joyful  interest  in  his  surround- 
ings. Katrina  exclaimed  over  a  sudden  dis- 
covery : 

"But  you  haven't  taken  off  your  hats!"  she 
cried.  "  Hans,  give  the  baby  to  Gretchen  and 
take  my  friends'  wraps  and  hats  up  to  the  guest- 
room. I  don't  want  Miss  Lawrence  to  climb 
stairs." 

The  professor  obediently  summoned  the  nurse, 
dropped  the  baby,  burdened  himself  with  our 
garments,  and  ambled  off  with  the  tread  of  a 
peaceful  elephant.  When  he  returned,  with 
the  eager  look  of  a  retriever  waiting  for  an- 
other stick,  his  wife  promptly  met  his  hopes. 

"Arrange  the  easy-chair  for  Miss  Lawrence, 
278 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

dear,"  she  said,  comfortably,  "and  put  an  otto- 
man under  her  feet.  I  want  her  to  rest  while 
she  is  here." 

The  professor  did  it,  while  we  gazed.  He 
also  inquired  feelingly  as  to  the  state  of  Jes- 
sica's health,  showed  a  sympathy  almost  hu- 
man in  her  replies,  and  placed  a  pillow  behind 
her  back.  Subsequently,  during  that  call,  he 
did  these  things: 

He  answered  the  telephone  half  a  dozen  times, 
faithfully  repeating  to  his  wife  the  messages  of 
her  various  friends,  and  carrying  hers  back,  as 
she  declined  to  be  torn  from  us  long  enough  to 
talk  to  them  herself. 

He  rounded  up  the  remaining  two  children 
and  presented  them  for  our  inspection,  straight- 
ening his  son's  shoulders  with  an  experienced 
hand,  and  tying  with  consummate  skill  the  bow 
on  his  little  girl's  hair. 

He  went  to  the  stable  and  ordered  the  family 
carriage,  that  we  might  drive  later  in  the  after- 
noon. 

He  searched  for  and  found  the  morning  news- 
paper, thoughtlessly  dropped  in  the  waste-paper 
basket  by  the  maid,  and  he  read  aloud  to  us  a 
paragraph  to  which  Katrina  had  referred  chron- 
icling the  achievements  of  a  classmate  of  ours. 
279 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

He  brought  to  Katrina,  at  different  times 
and  from  remote  parts  of  the  house,  one  white 
shawl,  six  photographs  of  the  children,  an  essay 
written  by  their  son,  aged  ten,  two  books,  a  bib 
to  meet  a  sudden  need  of  the  baby,  and  Ka- 
trina's  address-book.  He  did  these  things,  and 
he  did  them  cheerfully,  and  with  the  unmis- 
takable ease  of  frequent  repetition.  I  glanced 
at  Jessica.  The  expressions  of  incredulity  and 
amazement  to  which  she  had  freely  yielded  dur- 
ing the  first  half -hour  of  our  call  had  given  way 
to  a  look  of  deep  reflection. 

Subsequently  Katrina  showed  us  her  home. 
The  room  that  had  been  the  professor's  study 
was  now  part  of  the  large  general  living-room. 
The  laboratory  was  now  Katrina' s  personal 
sitting-room.  Through  its  French  windows  we 
saw  Katrina's  garden  blossoming  like  the  rose. 
Jessica  asked  the  present  location  of  the  profess- 
or's study  and  laboratory.  She  subsequently 
admitted  to  me  that  she  should  not  have  done 
it,  but  that  to  leave  the  house  without  the  in- 
formation would  have  been  a  physical  and  moral 
impossibility.  Katrina  looked  at  her  vaguely, 
as  one  seeking  to  recall  a  fleeting  moment  of 
the  long-dead  past ;  but  the  professor  responded 
with  gratified  alacrity. 

280 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"  But  you  shall  see  them!"  he  cried.  "  Surely, 
yes;"  and  like  a  jovial  school-boy  he  led  us  up 
to  the  third  floor.  There,  indeed,  was  his  study 
— a  hall  bedroom,  much  crowded  by  his  desk 
and  easy-chair;  and  off  it,  in  a  closet,  were  his 
beloved  bottles  and  chemicals.  I  felt  a  throb 
of  sympathy  for  the  professor,  but  he  was 
evidently  blissfully  ignorant  of  any  reason  for 
such  a  sentiment. 

"The  M utter chen  and  the  babies  need  the 
rest,"  he  smiled,  complacently.  "They  must 
not  climb  too  many  stairs — no ; "  and  he  led  the 
way  back  to  comfort  with  unconsciousness  of 
the  painful  contrast  between  past  and  present 
conditions  that  made  Jessica  and  me  carefully 
refrain  from  meeting  each  other's  eyes.  The 
children,  when  they  espied  him  upon  our  re- 
turn, uttered  shrieks  of  joy.  The  baby  sprang 
to  his  arms,  the  little  boy  swarmed  up  his  leg. 
The  picture  of  Professor  von  Heller  as  a  per- 
fectly trained  husband  and  father  was  com- 
plete. 

In  silence,  after  our  prolonged  farewells,  Jes- 
sica and  I  left  the  house.  In  silence  we  entered 
the  trolley-car;  in  silence  we  rode  home.  At 
last  I  voiced  a  sudden  suspicion. 

"Do  you  think,"  I  asked,  hopefully,  "that 
19  281 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

it  was  all  a — a — well,  that  she  persuaded  him 
to  do  it  just  this  once,  for  our  edification?" 

Jessica  shook  her  head. 

"  I  thought  so,  at  first,"  she  conceded,  slowly. 
"That  in  itself  would  have  been  a  miracle — 
one  I'd  never  believe  if  I  hadn't  seen  it  with 
these  eyes.  But  everything  disproves  the 
theory.  Do  you  think  she  could  have  trained 
those  children  to  advance  and  retreat  like  a 
Casino  ballet?  On  the  contrary,  it's  evident 
that  they  literally  live  on  him.  They've  worn 
the  creases  off  his  trousers!  Didn't  you  notice 
where  the  creases  left  off  and  the  sliding-place 
of  the  babies  began?" 

I  reluctantly  admitted  that  this  detail  had 
escaped  my  observation.  Jessica  sighed. 

"Incredible  as  it  is,"  she  summed  up,  "it's 
all  true.  It's  the  real  thing." 

"  It  opens  quite  a  vista,"  I  observed,  thought- 
fully. "If  you  would  like  Professor  Adams's 
present  address,  I  can  give  it  to  you.  He  is  in 
the  Adirondacks  with  his  sister  Mollie,  and  I 
had  a  letter  from  her  this  morning." 

Jessica  looked  at  me  and  urged  me  not  to  be 
vulgar.  Her  thoughtful  expression  did  not 
lift. 

"If  Katrina  can  do  that  with  that  man," 
282 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

I  murmured,  reflectively,  as  we  entered  the 
house,  "I  really  believe  you  could  work  won- 
ders with  Adams.  He  would  probably  do  the 
cooking  and  marketing — 

"If  you're  so  impressed,"  remarked  Jessi- 
ca, in  incisive  tones,  "I  wonder  you  don't 
yield  to  the  prayers  and  tears  of  your  editor 
man." 

My  reply  made  Jessica  sink  into  a  hall  chair 
which  was  fortunately  at  hand. 

"I  am  going  to,"  I  said,  placidly.  And  I 
did. 

Jessica's  nature  being  less  womanly  and  yield- 
ing than  mine,  her  surrender  was  a  matter  of 
longer  time.  In  the  interval  I  quite  forgot 
her  unimportant  affairs,  being  wholly  absorb- 
ed in  the  really  extraordinary  values  of  my 
own.  Two  weeks  before  the  reopening  of  col- 
lege, my  reformed  yellow  journalist,  who  had 
come  West  to  spend  his  brief  vacation  with  me, 
was  seated  by  my  side  one  evening  studying 
the  admirable  effect  of  a  ring  he  had  just  placed 
on  my  finger.  It  is  singular  how  fraught  with 
human  interest  such  moments  can  be,  and  Ed- 
ward and  I  failed  to  hear  Jessica  as  she  opened 
the  door.  She  looked  over  our  heads  as  she 
spoke  to  me.  Her  face  was  rather  red,  but  her 
283 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

voice  and  manner  expressed  a  degree  of  indif- 
ference which  I  am  convinced  no  human  being 
has  ever  really  felt  on  any  subject. 

"Did  you  say  that  you  could  give  me  Mollie 
Adams's  address?"  asked  Jessica. 


XI 

BART  HARRINGTON,  GENIUS 

'"PHE  assistant  Sunday  editor  of  the  New 
1  Fork  Searchlight  was  busy.  This  was  not 
an  unusual  condition,  but  it  frequently  included 
unusually  irritating  features.  His  superior, 
Wilson,  the  Sunday  editor,  was  a  gentleman 
with  a  high  brow  and  a  large  salary,  who,  hav- 
ing won  a  reputation  as  "  a  Napoleon  of  Journal- 
ism," had  successfully  cultivated  a  distaste  for 
what  he  called  "details."  His  specialty  was 
the  making  of  suggestions  in  editorial  council,  in 
cheery  expectation  that  they  would  be  carried 
out  by  his  associates — an  expectation  so  rarely 
realized  that  Mr.  Wilson's  visage  had  almost  a 
habit  of  hurt  wonder.  "Details"  continued  to 
absorb  the  activity  of  the  Sunday  Searchlight 
office,  and  Maxwell,  the  assistant  editor,  at- 
tended to  them  all,  murmuring  bitterly  against 
his  chief  as  he  labored. 

On  this  special  morning,  moreover,  he  was 
285 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

receiving  telephoned  bulletins  of  the  gradual 
disintegration  of  his  biggest  "special,"  sched- 
uled for  the  coming  Sunday  edition,  which  was 
to  tell  with  sympathetic  amplitude  of  a  beau- 
tiful French  maiden  who  had  drowned  her- 
self because  some  young  man  no  longer  loved 
her.  The  active  reporter  assigned  to  the  case 
had  telephoned  first  his  discovery  that  the  girl 
never  had  a  lover,  but  cheerily  suggested  that 
this  explained  her  suicide  as  well  as  the  earlier 
theory,  and  wasn't  so  hackneyed,  sagely  adding 
that  he  would  get  the  story  anyhow.  Subse- 
quently he  had  rung  up  the  office  to  report, 
with  no  slight  disgust,  that  there  was  no  suicide 
to  explain,  as  the  girl  was  not  dead.  She  had 
merely  gone  to  visit  friends  in  the  country,  and 
the  people  in  the  house,  missing  her,  had  de- 
cided that  the  peaceful  waters  of  the  Hudson — 
Maxwell  hung  up  the  receiver  with  a  few 
crisp  remarks  addressed  to  space,  and  absorbed 
in  awestruck  silence  by  a  young  woman  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room  who  eased  her  type- 
writing labor  by  pausing  to  hear  them  fully. 
It  was  at  this  inauspicious  moment  that  the 
card  of  Mr.  Bart  Harrington  was  brought  in  by 
an  office  boy.  Maxwell  surveyed  it  with  strong 
disfavor. 

286 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

"Who  is  he?"  he  asked,  regarding  the  office 
boy  severely. 

The  office  boy  avowed  deprecatingly  that  he 
didn't  know. 

"He  'ain't  never  been  here  before,"  he  sub- 
mitted, in  extenuation.  "  He  says  he's  got  a 
Sunday  story." 

Maxwell  resigned  himself  to  the  waste  of  five 
minutes  of  precious  time. 

"Show  'm  in,"  he  commanded,  testily.  He 
sat  down  at  his  desk  and  turned  toward  the 
door  an  expression  that  reminded  callers  of  the 
value  of  time  and  the  brevity  of  life.  Mr. 
Harrington,  who  had  followed  the  boy  through 
the  door  with  conviction  of  these  two  things, 
dropped  into  a  chair  beside  the  editor's  desk 
and  surveyed  Maxwell  with  a  smile  so  young, 
so  trustful,  and  withal  so  engaging,  that  un- 
consciously the  stern  features  of  that  function- 
ary relaxed.  Nevertheless,  he  was  not  jarred 
out  of  his  routine. 

"Got  your  story  with  you,  Mr.  Harrington?" 
he  asked,  briskly,  holding  out  his  hand  for  the 
manuscript.  "  If  you'll  leave  it,  I'll  read- 
Harrington  interrupted  him  with  an  impres- 
sive shake  of  his  head.  Then  he  settled  back  in 
his  chair,  crossed  one  leg  comfortably  over  the 

287 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

other,  plunged  his  hands  deep  in  the  pockets  of 
his  very  shabby  overcoat,  and  continued  to  re- 
gard the  editor  with  his  singularly  boyish, 
dimpling  smile.  With  one  swift  glance  Max- 
well took  him  in,  from  the  broken  boot  on  the 
foot  he  was  gently  swinging  to  and  fro  to  the 
thick,  curly  locks  on  his  handsome  head.  He 
had  a  complexion  like  a  girl's,  a  dimple  in  each 
cheek,  and  a  jaw  like  a  bull-dog's.  He  was  all 
of  six  feet  tall,  and  his  badly  made  clothes  could 
not  wholly  conceal  the  perfect  lines  of  his  figure. 
He  was  about  twenty- two  years  old,  Maxwell 
decided,  and,  notwithstanding  his  dimples,  his 
complexion,  his  youth,  and  his  smile,  he  con- 
veyed a  vivid  impression  of  masculinity  and 
strength.  He  was  wholly  self-possessed,  and 
his  manner  suggested  that  the  business  which 
had  brought  him  where  he  was  was  of  such 
urgent  value  and  importance  that  the  busy 
world  itself  might  well  hush  its  noisy  activities 
long  enough  to  hear  of  it.  To  his  own  great 
surprise,  Maxwell  waited  until  his  caller  was 
prepared  to  speak. 

Harrington  shook  his  head  again  slowly. 
Then  he  tapped  his  forehead  with  the  second 
finger  of  his  right  hand. 

"I  have  it  heah,"  he  said,  slowly,  referring 
288 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

evidently  to  the  brow  he  had  indicated,  and 
speaking  with  a  slight  drawl  and  the  strongly 
marked  accent  of  the  Southern  mountaineer. 
"  I  'lowed  I  wouldn't  write  it  till  I  knew  you-all 
wanted  it.  I'd  like  to  tell  it.  Then  if—" 

Maxwell  nodded,  and  glanced  at  his  wratch. 

"Fire  away,"  he  said,  elegantly.  "But  be 
as  quick  as  you  can,  please.  This  is  closing 
day  and  every  minute  counts." 

Harrington  smiled  his  ingenuous  smile.  It 
was  a  wistful  smile — not  a  happy  one — but  it 
seemed,  somehow,  to  illumine  the  office.  Max- 
well reflected  irritably  that  there  was  something 
unusually  likable  about  the  fellow,  but  he  wish- 
ed he'd  hurry  up  and  get  out.  From  force  of 
habit  his  fingers  grasped  a  blue  pencil  on  his 
desk,  and  he  began  to  fumble  nervously  among 
the  manuscripts  that  lay  before  him.  Harring- 
ton settled  back  more  firmly  in  his  chair,  and 
the  swinging  of  his  torn  boot  was  accelerated 
a  trifle,  but  his  voice  when  he  spoke  was  full  of 
quiet  confidence. 

"  It's  a  good  thing,  suh,"  he  said,  "and  I  can 
tell  you-all  about  it  in  a  sentence.  I'm  goin' 
to  commit  suicide  to-day,  an'  I  agree  to  write 
the  experience  foh  you,  up  to  the  last  minute, 
if  you-all  will  have  me  buried  decently.  I 
289 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

don't  cayah  to  be  shovelled  into  the  Pottah's 
Field." 

Maxwell  dropped  the  blue  pencil  and  wheeled 
to  look  at  him.  Then  his  face  hardened. 

"It's  a  pretty  bad  joke,"  he  said,  "or  a  bum 
sort  of  bid  for  charity.  In  either  case  you  can't 
waste  any  more  of  my— 

But  Harrington  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  his 
blond  young  face  black  with  passion. 

"Damn  you!"  he  hissed,  thrusting  his  head 
down  close  to  the  other's  and  clinching  his  fists. 
"  How  dahe  you-all  say  I  lie  o'  ask  charity  ?  I'd 
see  you-all  in  hell  befoah  I'd  take  a  cent  of  youah 
damned  money.  'Ain't  you  got  brains  enough 
in  youah  haid  to  see  that  I've  got  to  the  end  of 
mah  rope?" 

Maxwell  was  a  clever  man,  educated  in  the 
world's  university.  He  knew  truth  when  he 
met  it,  and  he  knew  human  nature. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said,  quietly,  "and  tell  me 
about  it.  I'm  sorry  I  spoke  as  I  did,  but  you 
must  admit  that  your  proposition  was  rather 
startling." 

Harrington  sat  down,  still  breathing  hard  in 
his  excitement,  but  evidently  making  a  resolute 
effort  to  control  himself. 

"That's  why  I  brought  it  heah,"  he  said,  an- 
290 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

swering  the  other's  last  words.  "You-all  like 
stahtlin'  things,  don't  you?  That's  what  you 
print.  I'm  offerin'  you  a  straight  bahgain,  suh 
—a  business  proposition.  If  you-all  don't  want 
it,  say  so." 

Maxwell  smiled  in  his  turn,  but  there  was 
nothing  ironic  in  the  smile,  nor  in  the  look  he 
turned  on  his  fellow-man. 

"  It's  not  quite  as  simple  as  you  seem  to 
think,"  he  explained,  gently.  "But  tell  me 
more  about  it.  What  led  to  this  decision? 
What  makes  you  think  suicide  is  the  only  way 
out  of  your  troubles  ?  That's  a  part  of  the  story, 
you  know.  Let  me  have  that  first,  in  a  few  words. 

"It  can  be  told,  suh,  in  three,"  said  the 
Southerner.  His  smile  had  returned.  His  voice 
was  the  cool  voice  of  one  who  discussed  ab- 
stract things.  "  I'm  a  failyuh.  This  wo'ld 
'ain't  no  use  foh  failyuhs.  I've  given  myself  all 
the  time  and  chances  I  dese'ved,  but  I  cayn't 
win  out,  so  I've  got  to  git  out.  The's  no  one  to 
ca'e.  I've  no  kin,  no  one  dependin'  on  me  in 
any  way.  As  foh  me,  I'm  ti'ed;  life  ain't  wuth 
the  effo't." 

Maxwell  regarded  him. 

"You  don't  look  like  a  quitter,"  he  said, 
thoughtfully. 

291 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

The  boy's  face  blazed  again,  but  he  kept  his 
temper. 

"To  quit  means  to  give  somethin'  up,"  he 
said,  doggedly.  "I  ain't  givin'  anythin'  up. 
I  'ain't  got  anythin'  to  give  up.  Life  without 
wo'k,  o'  interest,  o'  fren's,  o'  ambition,  o'  love — 
that  ain't  livin' !  If  you-all  evah  tried  it,  you'd 
know.  I  'ain't  been  so  chee'ful  in  yeahs  as  I've 
been  sence  I  made  up  my  mind  to  '  quit,'  as  you- 
all  call  it." 

"You've  got  health,  haven't  you?"  demand- 
ed Maxwell. 

"Yes." 

Maxwell  brought  his  hand  down  on  the  desk 
with  an  air  of  finality. 

"  Then  you've  got  everything.  Do  you  mean 
to  tell  me  that  a  fellow  like  you  can't  earn 
enough  to  support  himself?  If  you  do,  you're 
talking  rot." 

Harrington  took  this  with  his  wide,  guileless 
grin.  He  was  not  offended  now,  for  he  felt 
the  friendly  interest  and  sympathy  under  the 
other's  words.  His  voice  when  he  replied  was 
gentler. 

"  I  ain't  sayin'  I  can't  keep  body  an'  soul  to- 
gether, foh  maybe  I  can,"  he  conceded.  "But 
I'm  sayin'  that  ain't  life.  I'm  sayin'  I  ain't 
292 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

been  fitted  fo'  wo'k.  I  'ain't  been  educated. 
I've  lived  in  a  log-cabin  down  in  the  Virginia 
mountains  all  mah  life.  I  left  thah  six  weeks 
ago,  after  mah  mother  died.  She  was  the  last 
of  ouah  family  but  me.  I  'ain't  never  been  to 
school.  She  taught  me  to  read  in  the  Bible, 
an'  to  write.  I  'ain't  nevah  read  anotheh  book 
except  the  Bible  and  Mistah  Shakespeah's 
poems,  an'  Mistah  Pluta'ch's  Lives  of  Great  Men. 
I  know  them  by  hea't.  I  don't  know  whe'  she 
got  them  o'  whe'  she  came  from.  She  was  dif- 
ferent from  othah  mountain  women.  I've  been 
No'th  six  weeks,  and  I've  tried  ha'd  to  find  a 
place  whah  I  could  fit  in,  but  th'  ain't  none. 
Men  must  be  trained  fuh  wo'k;  I  ain't  trained. 
I  cayn't  go  back,  foh  the's  no  one  thah,  an'  I 
hate  the  mountains." 

Maxwell's  reply  was  brief  and  to  the  point. 

"Think  you  could  learn  to  run  our  elevator 
without  killing  us  all?"  he  inquired.  "Well, 
you've  got  to.  You've  been  talking  awful  guff, 
you  know.  Now  you're  going  to  work,  right 
here.  We  need  a  new  man.  The  one  we  have 
has  been  drunk  three  days.  You're  going  to 
run  the  elevator  and  get  fifteen  dollars  a  week 
to  begin  with.  Here's  your  first  week's  salary 
in  advance.  I'll  arrange  about  the  job  with  the 
293 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

superintendent.  I'll  give  you  some  books,  and 
you  can  educate  yourself.  When  you're  above 
elevator  work  we'll  give  you  something  better. 
You'll  probably  have  my  job  inside  of  a  year," 
he  ended,  jocosely. 

The  hand  of  the  mountaineer  stretched  out 
to  him  trembled  as  Maxwell  grasped  it. 

"You  ah  the  only  white  man  I've  found  in 
the  No'th,"  said  the  Southerner,  breathlessly. 
"I'll  make  good,  as  they  say  up  heah.  But  I 
don't  know  how  I  can  thank  you." 

"Don't  try,"  said  Maxwell,  brusquely.  "Be 
here  at  eight  in  the  morning.  By  nine  there 
will  be  a  few  callers  I  may  want  you  to  throw 
down  the  shaft." 

Thus  began  the  connection  between  the 
Searchlight  and  Bart  Harrington,  subsequently 
its  most  popular  employed  Before  the  week 
was  over  all  the  reporters  and  most  of  the 
editors  had  casually  sought  from  Maxwell  some 
details  concerning  his  prot6g6,  but  had  received 
few.  Harrington  was  a  new  man,  and  he  came 
from  the  Virginia  mountains,  and  was  most 
obliging  and  altogether  engaging.  This  was  all 
the  information  acquired  even  by  the  indefati- 
gable Miss  Mollie  Merk,  whose  success  in  ex- 
tracting from  individuals  information  it  was 
294 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

their  dearest  desire  to  conceal  had  made  her  a 
star  member  of  the  Searchlight's  staff.  It  was  to 
Miss  Merk,  however,  that  Harrington  announced 
his  first  important  discovery.  Leaning  across 
her  desk  one  evening  after  his  successor  had 
taken  the  "car,"  the  new  elevator  man  touched 
a  subject  much  upon  his  mind. 

"I  got  wet  the  othah  day,"  he  began,  con- 
versationally, "an'  mah  landlady  let  me  go  to 
the  kitchen  to  dry  mah  clothes.  I  obse'ved  as 
I  sat  by  huh  stove  that  the  lid  of  the  wash 
boilah  kept  liftin'  up,  all  by  itself,  an'  then  I 
saw  'twas  raised  by  the  steam  of  the  hot  watah 
inside.  I  kep'  thinkin'  'bout  it,  an'  it  seems 
to  me  thah's  an  idea  thah,  a  soht  of  ene'gy, 
you  know,  that  might  be  used  in  big  ways.  I 
mus'  think  it  out." 

Mollie  Merk  looked  at  him,  vague  memories 
of  one  James  Watts  stirring  uneasily  in  her 
brain. 

"There's  a  good  deal  written  about  steam," 
she  said,  sympathetically.  "I'll  bring  you  a 
book  on  it." 

She  did,  for  Harrington  was  already  high  in 
her  regard ;  and  quite  possibly  the  volume  kill- 
ed in  that  youth's  aspiring  soul  the  germ  of  a 
beautiful  hope.  But  he  was  to  the  fore  very 

295 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

soon  with  a  discovery  of  equal  weight.  This 
time  his  confidant  was  Maxwell. 

"Why  is  it,"  he  asked  that  busy  citizen  one 
evening,  "that  when  I  get  in  the  bathtub  the 
water  rises  highah?  Ain't  the'  some  principle 
the'  that  is  important?  As  I  think  it  ovah — " 

Maxwell  hurriedly  assured  him  that  there 
was,  and  the  volume  on  steam  was  followed  by 
a  treatise  on  specific  gravity,  which  gave  Mr. 
Harrington  food  for  reflection  for  several  days. 
Nevertheless,  the  discovery  that  others  had  been 
before  him  did  not  depress  him  in  the  least.  He 
gave  the  Sunday  editor  an  insight  into  his  views 
on  one  occasion  when  that  gentleman  was  able 
to  convince  him  that  Isaac  Newton  and  not 
Bart  Harrington  had  discovered  the  law  of 
gravitation  while  watching  an  apple  fall  from 
a  tree. 

"I  obse'ved  it,  too,  suh,"  argued  Harrington, 
sturdily,  defending  his  position  as  a  scientific 
discoverer.  "Of  co'se  I  see  the  fo'ce  of  you'h 
rema'k  that  the  othah  man  was  first.  That  is 
unfo'tunate  foh  me.  But  does  it  affect  the 
value  of  my  discovery?  It  does  not,  suh." 

"There's  a  good  deal  in  it,"  Wilson  conceded 
to  Maxwell,  after  he  had  delightedly  repeated 
this  conversation.  "Of  course,  the  fellow  has 
296 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

an  unusual  mind.  It's  a  pity  he's  always  a  few 
hundred  years  behind  the  time,  but,  as  he  hints, 
that  needn't  dim  our  admiration  for  the  quality 
of  his  brain  fibre." 

Maxwell  laughed  uneasily. 

"  I  can't  make  up  my  mind,"  he  admitted,  in 
his  turn,  "whether  he's  a  genius  or  a  plain  fool. 
He  lost  his  dinner  last  night  explaining  to  me 
how  the  power  of  Niagara  could  be  applied 
to  practical  uses.  He  was  horribly  depressed 
when  I  told  him  it  not  only  could  be,  but  was. 
I  let  him  talk,  though,  to  see  what  his  ideas 
were,  and  they  were  very  practical." 

"I  call  that  mighty  encouraging,"  said  the 
chief,  optimistically.  "He's  getting  down  to 
modern  times.  After  he  has  discovered  the 
telephone  and  telegraph  and  cable  and  wire- 
less telegraphy  he  may  tackle  telepathy  and 
give  us  something  new." 

But  Harrington  indulged  in  an  unexplained 
digression  at  this  point.  He  discovered  litera- 
ture and  became  acquainted  with  the  works  of 
one  Charles  Dickens,  of  whose  genius  he  made 
himself  the  sounding  trumpet-call  for  the  ears 
of  an  indifferent  world. 

"The's  a  book  called  David  Coppe' field"  he 
confided  to  Maxwell  one  night  when  he  had  lin- 
297 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

gered  for  a  chat  with  his  benefactor.  "It's 
great,  suh.  You  should  read  it  sometime,  Mis- 
tah  Maxwell;  you  would  appreciate  its  wo'th." 
He  outlined  the  plot  then  and  there,  and  Max- 
well good-naturedly  listened,  rinding  his  com- 
pensation in  the  enthusiast's  original  comments 
on  character  and  situation.  This,  however,  es- 
tablished a  bad  precedent,  and  Maxwell  was 
subsequently  obliged  to  hear  a  careful  synopsis 
of  Little  Dorrit,  Old  Curiosity  Shop,  and  Oliver 
Twist,  in  quick  succession,  followed  by  the  some- 
what painful  recitation  of  most  of  Gray's  Elegy 
in  a  Country  Churchyard — for  Harrington  was 
now  entering  the  daisied  field  of  poetry. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  Maxwell  felt  him- 
self constrained  to  give  his  proteg6  a  few  words 
of  advice,  the  city  editor  having  objected  to  an 
enforced  hearing  of  the  plot  of  Ivanhoe,  and 
Mollie  Merk  having  admitted  that  she  had 
climbed  six  flights  of  stairs  twice  a  day  for  a 
week  in  preference  to  hearing  the  final  eighteen 
stanzas  of  Paradise  Lost. 

Maxwell  explained  the  situation  to  his  friend 
as  gently  as  he  could  one  morning  when  Har- 
rington had  interrupted  a  talk  between  himself 
and  a  distinguished  Western  editor  who  was 
spending  a  few  days  in  New  York. 
298 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

"You  see,  old  man,"  he  ended,  kindly,  "this 
is  a  big,  new  world  to  you,  but  the  rest  of  us 
have  been  living  in  it  all  our  lives.  We've  taken 
in  these  things  you're  discovering — or  we've  had 
them  driven  into  us  at  school.  So — er — they're 
not  new,  and  while  we  appreciate  them  we 
haven't  got  time  to  go  over  them  all  again. 
When  you  get  up  to  modern  fiction — the  things 
people  are  reading  to-day — " 

With  one  expressive  gesture  of  the  hand  Mr. 
Harrington  demolished  modern  fiction. 

"/  'ain't  got  time  foh  that,  Mistah  Maxwell," 
he  said,  respectfully.  "  I  read  one,  and  I  regret 
to  say,  suh,  that  it  was  too  much.  I  have 
looked  into  othe's,  but  I  go  no  fu'thah.  I  have 
tried  to  open  to  you  gentlemen  the  great  wo'ks 
I  have  discove'ed,  an'  youah  reply  is  that  you- 
all  have  read  them,  suh.  I  am  surprised.  Do 
you  give  one  glance  at  a  picture  an'  nevah  look 
again?  Do  you  listen  once  to  music,  o'  must 
it  be  something  new  and  mode'n  ev'ry  time? 
Last  night  I  heard  the  composition  of  a  musi- 
cian named  Beethoven,  who,  I  have  learned,  has 
been  dead  foh  yeahs.  Yet  people  still  listen  to 
his  notes.  Why  don't  they  read  these  books  of 
Mistah  Dickens  and  Mistah  Scott  and  Mistah 
Shakespeah?" 

299 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

Maxwell  murmured  feebly  that  a  few  did.  A 
fitting  response  to  Harrington's  arraignment 
somehow  eluded  him,  and  before  he  had  found 
the  words  he  wanted  an  unexpected  interrup- 
tion came  from  the  Western  editor,  who  had  been 
listening  to  the  conversation  with  almost  painful 
interest. 

"Mr.  Harrington,"  he  asked,  abruptly,  "can 
you  write?" 

Harrington  looked  surprised  and  boyishly  in- 
jured. 

"Yes,  suh,"  he  replied,  stiffly.  "I  can  read 
and  write." 

"Oh,  of  course,  of  course,"  explained  the 
other,  hastily.  "  I  don't  mean  that.  Can  you 
write  for  the  press?  Have  you  tried  to  write 
anything  for  other  people  to  read?" 

Harrington's  characteristic  smile  flashed  forth. 

"I  have  submitted  sev'al  ahticles  to  Mistah 
Maxwell,"  he  said,  with  some  dignity,  "but  thus 
far  I  have  not  been  fo'tunate  enough — " 

Maxwell  drew  a  little  package  of  manuscripts 
from  a  pigeon-hole  in  his  desk  and  handed  them 
to  the  visitor  without  a  word.  They  spoke  for 
themselves.  The  latter  glanced  through  them, 
frowning.  Maxwell  returned  to  his  work.  Har- 
rington waited.  At  last  the  Westerner  handed 
300 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

the  papers  back  to  his  Eastern  colleague,  shak- 
ing his  head  as  he  did  so. 

"These  won't  do  at  all,"  he  said,  decidedly, 
"but  they  confirm  my  impression  that  this  man 
can  write  something  worth  while."  He  ad- 
dressed himself  to  Maxwell  now,  discussing  Har- 
rington as  impersonally  as  if  he  were  absent, 
but  from  time  to  time  his  keen  eyes  returned 
to  the  Southerner's  face. 

"  Here's  a  man,"  he  began,  didactically,  "who 
is  hundreds  of  years  behind  the  times.  But 
please  remember  that  he  would  have  been 
Watts,  Newton,  and  several  other  discoverers 
if  he  had  existed  before  them.  He's  as  much 
of  a  pilgrim  on  this  earth  to-day  as  if  he  were 
a  visitor  from  another  planet.  But  he  has 
an  extraordinary  type  of  mind  and  very  good 
taste — a  strong,  ignorant,  instinctive  feeling  for 
the  best.  If  he  would  write  a  series  of  short 
articles  giving  his  point  of  view  to  the  busy  men 
and  women  of  to-day,  they  should  be  'good 
stuff' — a  sort  of  artistic  voice  crying  in  the 
commercial  wilderness,  don't  you  see.  You  or 
some  one  else  may  have  to  put  them  into  shape, 
until  he  catches  the  idea,  but  he  will  catch  it  all 
right.  He's  clever  enough.  If  you  want  to 
try  him,  and  it  turns  out  as  I  think  it  will,  I'll 
301 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

buy  the  material  for  simultaneous  publication 
in  Chicago.  What  do  you  say?" 

"Agreed,"  said  Maxwell,  briefly.  "I  think 
you're  right.  We'll  try  it,  anyhow.  I  guess 
we  won't  have  much  trouble  persuading  Har- 
rington to  favor  us  with  the  opportunity  of 
examining  his  manuscript."  He  smiled  as  he 
glanced  at  the  other.  Harrington's  eyes  were 
shining.  His  words,  when  he  spoke,  came 
breathlessly. 

"I'll  have  the  first  copy  ready  in  the  mo'n- 
ing,  Mistah  Maxwell,"  he  promised.  "And  I 
reckon,"  he  added,  straightening  his  splendid 
shoulders — "  I  reckon  I'll  give  up  the  elevatah, 
suh." 

Maxwell  laughed  in  high  good-humor. 

"Oh  yes,"  he  agreed,  "I  guess  we'll  have  to 
give  you  a  successor  there,  in  any  event.  How- 
ever this  experiment  turns  out,  it's  time  you 
had  something  better  than  that." 

Harrington's  first  paper  was  signed  "  A  Vis- 
itor from  Mars,"  and  Maxwell  marvelled  as  he 
read  it.  It  was  not  a  great  production,  and  it 
was  full  of  small  faults;  but  there  was  an  in- 
describable naivete1  and  charm  about  it  to 
which  its  quaint,  old-time  style  added  the  final 
302 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

touch.  Harrington's  studies  of  what  he  called 
"  the  olden  masters  "  had  not  been  in  vain.  Late 
the  next  evening,  in  the  peace  of  his  small  Har- 
lem flat,  Maxwell  submitted  the  manuscript  to 
his  wife  for  criticism.  He  passed  it  over  with- 
out comment,  desiring  the  unprejudiced  opin- 
ion of  the  intelligent  general  reader,  and  Mrs. 
Maxwell  read  it  twice,  very  carefully,  before  she 
handed  it  back.  When  she  did  there  was  a  mist 
over  her  bright  brown  eyes. 

"  The  darling  thing!"  she  cried.  "  Who  wrote 
it,  Bob?  It's  as  clever  as  it  can  be,  and  yet 
there's  something  about  it  that  makes  me  feel 
queer  and  choky.  It's — it's" — her  face  bright- 
ened— "it's  something  like  the  feeling  I  had 
when  little  Bobbie  wrote  me  his  first  letter, 
that  time  I  went  home  to  take  care  of  mother. 
One  almost  expects  to  see  the  words  staggering 
down  one  side  of  the  page  in  dear  little,  crooked, 
printed  letters.  It's  the  manuscript  of  a  grown- 
up, sophisticated  baby." 

Maxwell  took  the  copy  from  her,  well  pleased 
at  this  conjugal  confirmation  of  his  own  im- 
pression. 

"It's  Harrington's,"  he  explained,  "and  he's 
not  sophisticated  enough  to  hurt  anybody  yet. 
But  he's  going  to  make  a  success  of  this  job — 
303 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

there's  no  doubt  of  that.  I'll  ask  him  to  come 
up  to  dinner  to-morrow  night  and  go  over  the 
stuff  with  me  a  bit.  I  don't  want  to  do  it  in 
the  office." 

The  Western  editor  was  equally  enthusiastic 
the  following  day.  He  was  also  glowing  pleas- 
antly in  the  confirmation  of  his  own  keenness 
of  intuition. 

"You  wouldn't  have  seen  what  you  had 
here,"  he  explained  to  Maxwell,  unnecessarily. 
"This  is  pretty  much  like  genius.  This  fellow 
will  be  writing  his  autobiography  some  day,  and 
perhaps  he'll  remember  his  humble  discoverers. 
Meantime,  don't  you  spoil  his  work  by  trying  to 
edit  it.  Let  it  alone.  It's  all  right." 

The  column  of  "The  Visitor  from  Mars" 
grew  to  two  columns,  and  -became  a  strong 
feature  of  the  Sunday  Searchlight.  Harrington, 
now  in  possession  of  a  fair  weekly  income  and 
unlimited  leisure,  bought  new  clothes,  rented 
a  sitting  -  room,  bedroom,  and  bath  in  a  com- 
fortable bachelor  apartment -house,  and  spent 
his  days  browsing  in  libraries,  where  he  read 
omnivorously.  Incidentally,  he  discovered  not 
only  the  telephone,  telegraph,  and  other  inven- 
tions predicted  by  the  Sunday  editor,  but  a 
locomotive  fire-box  which  had  received  some 
3°4 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

favor  among  railroad  officials  for  ten  years,  and 
a  superb  weapon  of  destruction  which  had  been 
used  in  the  Japanese  army  for  six. 

"He's  getting  on!"  cried  Wilson,  delightedly, 
when  Maxwell  recounted  these  small  disappoint- 
ments in  an  otherwise  inspiring  onward  career. 
"  He's  learned  to  dress  like  a  gentleman,  speak 
like  a  gentleman,  and  look  like  a  gentleman, 
and  he  has  also  learned  that  there  have  been  a 
few  active  minds  in  the  world  before  his  came. 
Give  him  time.  He'll  do  something  big  yet." 

Harrington  promptly  verified  this  prediction 
by  falling  in  love,  which  he  did  on  a  scale  and 
with  an  abandon  unprecedented  in  the  history 
of  Park  Row.  It  was  a  tempestuous  upheaval 
for  the  emotional  Southerner,  and  every  other 
interest  in  his  life  retired  to  the  remotest  back- 
ground and  remained  there,  unseen  and  unsus- 
pected. His  choice  fell  on  a  woman  reporter 
of  the  Searchlight,  a  quiet,  refined  young  girl, 
whose  journalistic  activities  were  confined  to 
reports  of  meetings  of  women's  clubs  and  the 
descriptions  of  other  social  events.  For  her 
Bart  Harrington  commanded  the  morning  stars 
to  sing  together,  and  dared  the  dazzled  sun  to 
look  upon  her  like.  To  him  she  was  Laura, 
Beatrice,  Juliet,  Francesca — the  essence  of  all 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

the  loves  of  all  the  ages  in  one  perfect  form. 
During  their  brief  engagement  he  called  for  her 
in  a  cab  each  morning,  and  drove  her  to  her 
home  each  night.  He  would  have  laid  a  carpet 
of  flowers  for  her  from  the  office  to  the  curb  had 
it  been  practicable.  Also,  he  discovered  Keats 
and  Shelley  and  Byron  and  Swinburne,  and 
quoted  them  until  the  office  boys,  who  alone  re- 
mained to  listen  to  him,  demanded  that  increase 
of  salary  justly  attached  to  increased  nervous 
strain.  Swinburne,  Harrington  promptly  de- 
cided, he  did  not  like.  There  was  an  earthiness 
in  his  verse,  he  explained  to  Maxwell,  a  material 
side,  wholly  lacking  in  the  love  of  the  right  man 
for  the  right  woman — in  other  words,  in  his  own 
love  for  Miss  Evans.  He  wrote  a  column  about 
this  kind  of  love  in  his  Mars  department,  and  a 
hundred  thousand  men  read  it  with  gurgles  of 
warm  appreciation  and  quoted  it  at  dinner  the 
next  night.  Then  he  married  Miss  Evans  and  be- 
came interested  in  the  price  of  coal  and  other 
household  supplies.  His  absorption  in  these 
topics  was  almost  feverish.  He  talked  about 
them  morning,  noon,  and  night.  His  interest  in 
literature  flickered  and  died  out.  To  Maxwell, 
his  first  and  still  his  best  friend,  he  finally  con- 
fided his  dilemma. 

306 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

"You  see,  old  man,"  he  began,  one  morning 
about  six  months  after  the  wedding,  "we've  dis- 
covered, Clara  and  I,  that  the  least  we  can  live 
on  in  New  York  is  fifty  dollahs  a  week.  And 
you  see  I'm  only  getting  forty.  It's  serious, 
isn't  it  ?  But  Clara  says  that  if  we  buy  all  ouah 
canned  goods  at  Lacy's — " 

Maxwell  stopped  him  with  a  gesture  of  des- 
peration. 

"  Harrington,  if  you  say  another  word  I  shall 
go  crazy,"  he  announced,  with  the  calmness  of 
despair.  "We'll  give  you  fifty  dollars  a  week. 
Now  consider  that  settled,  and  for  God's  sake 
get  your  mind  off  it.  If  you  don't  look  out 
you'll  be  writing  about  coal  and  canned  goods 
in  your  Mars  column.  What  are  you  going  to 
write  this  week,  anyhow?"  he  demanded,  with 
sudden  suspicion. 

Harrington  looked  guilty. 

"I  thought  I'd  say  something  about  how 
prices  have  advanced , "  he  faltered.  ' '  Clara  says 
that  two  yeahs  ago — "  But  Maxwell  had  taken 
him  by  the  shoulders. 

"  No,  you  don't!"  he  shouted,  fiercely.  "  You'll 
keep  on  writing  about  literature  and  life  and  lily- 
pads  and  love — that's  what  you'll  do.  If  you 
don't,  you'll  lose  your  job.  Don't  you  dare  to 
307 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

introduce  a  single-dollar  sign  or  canned  tomato 
into  those  columns,"  he  added,  warningly,  as  he 
returned  to  his  work. 

Harrington's  look  of  reproach  as  he  went  out 
haunted  him  for  days — so  long,  in  fact,  that  he 
bore  with  extraordinary  patience  a  confidence 
that  gentleman  favored  him  with  several  months 
later.  He  came  to  the  office  one  morning  wear- 
ing an  expression  oddly  combined  of  pride  and 
shame,  in  which  first  one  and  then  the  other 
predominated.  For  a  long  time  he  discussed 
apartments  and  janitors  and  domestic  sup- 
plies, and  Maxwell  humored  him.  Then  he 
said: 

"I've  been  an  awful  ass,  Maxwell,  but  that's 
no  reason  why  I  should  keep  on  being  one,  is  it  ? 
I've  got  to  tell  you  something  impo'tant,  and 
I'm  going  to  do  it  now.  I  can't  write  any  more 
about  literatuah  of  the  past  and  lily-pads  of  the 
present,  as  you  would  say.  Who  ca'es  about 
'em  ?  /  don't.  The  wo'ld  to-day  is  interested  in 
the  life  of  to-day.  Men  think  about  theah  wo'k 
and  theah  incomes  and  theah  homes  and  theah 
wives  and  theah  children,  and  that's  all  they 
think  about.  And  women  think  about  men, 
and  that's  all  they  think  about.  And  heah  I'm 
writing  all  the  time  about  literatuah — litera- 
308 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

tuah."  He  turned  the  word  over  in  his  mouth 
and  ejected  it  with  supreme  contempt. 

As  once  before,  Maxwell  was  silent  in  the 
presence  of  simple  truth.  He  rallied,  however, 
and  voiced  a  protest. 

"  I  suppose  you  haven't  lost  interest  in  earn- 
ing your  living,"  he  suggested,  ironically. 
"  How  do  you  intend  to  do  that  if  you  give  up 
this  job?" 

Harrington  flushed  a  little,  and  cleared  his 
throat  nervously  before  he  spoke.  Then  he 
drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and  as  his  fingers 
touched  it  his  face  cleared  and  happy  pride 
beamed  from  him. 

"I've  got  something  else,"  he  said,  simply. 
"  I  waited  to  see  how  it  would  tu'n  out  befoah 
I  told  you.  It's  quite  a  story.  You  see,"  he 
went  on  expansively,  settling  back  in  his  chair, 
and  swinging  his  foot  with  the  characteristic 
swing  of  the  boy  of  two  years  before — "  you  see, 
Clara  needed  a  hat-pin,  the  kind  that  would 
stay  in  and  keep  a  hat  on.  None  of  them  do, 
Clara  said.  So  I  made  one  foh  huh,  and  Clara's 
brothah  saw  it  and  thought  it  was  a  good  thing. 
He's  a  lawyer,  you  know.  He  showed  it  to 
some  man  with  money,  and  they  took  it  up 
and  we  patented  it,  and  now  we've  got  a  facto'y 
309 


MANY   KINGDOMS 

and  we're  selling  it.  It's — it's  making  lots  of 
money."  He  turned  an  apologetic  eye  on  his 
friend  and  continued,  more  firmly :  "  They  gave 
me  twenty  thousand  dollahs  down  and  twenty 
pe'  cent,  of  the  stock,  and  a  block  of  stock  foh 
you,  because  I  insisted  on  that.  I  want  you 
in  on  my  luck.  Heah  it  is.  E.  W.  Hubbard  is 
the  chief  backah,  and  he  says  this  is  wuth  ten 
thousand  dollahs.  He  says  every  woman  in 
Ame'ica  will  be  wearing  one  of  ouah  hat-pins 
this  time  next  yeah." 

He  laid  the  certificate  on  the  table  as  he  spoke, 
and  for  a  moment  Maxwell  sat  staring  at  it, 
speechless.  He  knew  Hubbard — a  rich,  shrewd 
financier,  and  no  leader  of  forlorn -hopes.  If 
Hubbard  was  in  the  thing  the  thing  was  all 
right.  But  a  hat-pin!  Maxwell  looked  at  the 
certificate  and  thought  of  the  hat-pin,  and  re- 
viewed the  Harrington  of  the  past  two  years, 
and  felt  a  horrible  desire  to  laugh  and  to  cry. 
Then  he  pushed  the  paper  toward  the  inventor. 

"It's  awfully  good  of  you,  old  man,"  he  said, 
huskily.  "But  of  course  I  can't  take  this. 
There's  no  reason  why  you  should  give  me  ten 
thousand  dollars,  you  know." 

Harrington  laughed — a  queer  little  laugh. 

"Ain't  they  a  reason?"  he  asked,  lapsing  in 
319 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

his  earnestness  into  the  careless  grammar  he 
had  almost  overcome.  "Well,  I  guess  I  know 
moah  than  any  one  else  'bout  that.  Do  you  re- 
membah  the  fifteen  dollahs  you  lent  me  the  day 
I  came  heah?  Well,  suh,  I  was  sta'ving.  I 
hadn't  eaten  fo'  two  days,  an'  I  couldn't  get 
wo'k,  an'  I  couldn't  beg.  That's  why  I  meant 
to  kill  myself.  That  money  saved  me.  Now 
heah's  this  thing.  It  ain't  money.  It's  an 
idea.  It's  an  idea  out  of  my  haid,  an'  that  haid 
wouldn't  be  heah  at  all  if  it  wasn't  fo'  you. 
You've  given  me  mah  chance.  What  I've  done 
ain't  much,  but  it's  brought  results,  and  results 
ah  the  things  that  count.  So  we'll  just  call  it 
interest,  if  you  don't  mind.  I  think  it's  goin' 
to  be  wuth  while.  An'  you  know,"  he  added, 
almost  timidly,  "we  ah  friends — ahn't  we,  you 
and  I?" 

Maxwell  wrung  his  hand.  Then  he  picked  up 
the  certificate,  folded  it,  and  put  it  carefully  into 
his  pocket. 

"Thanks,  old  man,"  he  said,  quietly.  "It's 
the  biggest  thing  that's  ever  come  my  way,  and 
I'll  take  it — from  my  friend." 

Later,  when  Harrington  had  taken  his  jubi- 
lant departure,  Maxwell  related  the  incident  to 
his  chief.  Wilson  listened  with  flattering  at- 
3" 


MANY    KINGDOMS 

tention.  At  the  end  he  nodded  sympathet- 
ically. 

"He's  all  right,"  he  said,  "and  you  needn't 
worry  about  him.  He's  got  one  quality  left 
that  sets  him  far  enough  apart  from  the  rabble 
of  to-day."  He  looked  keenly  at  the  young 
man  as  he  added,  suddenly:  "Of  all  the  fel- 
lows you've  ever  helped,  Maxwell — and  I  know 
you've  helped  a  lot  in  one  way  or  another — has 
any  one  of  them  before  to-day  ever  shown  you 
any  gratitude?" 

Maxwell  shook  his  head.  "Don't  remember 
any,"  he  admitted.  "But  I  didn't  expect  any, 
and  don't  want  any." 

"And  you  don't  get  it,"  ended  the  older  man, 
with  a  sigh.  "  It's  the  rarest  thing  in  life.  So 
make  the  most  of  it  this  time,  my  boy.  One 
doesn't  often  meet  a  visitor  from  Mars!" 


THE    END 


A     0001103387 


